


Love in a Hopeless Place

by whatitsaysonthetin



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Avengers: Endgame Fix-It, Awkward First Times, Canon Disabled Character, Christmas, De-aging, Developing Relationship, Disabled Bucky Barnes, Disabled pepper potts, Discussion of Death, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, F/M, First Time, Found Family, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Size Difference, disabled steve rogers, touch-starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 50,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22246906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatitsaysonthetin/pseuds/whatitsaysonthetin
Summary: Steve had told him everything the night before as they'd laid in bed, kissing away five years worth of tears and lost time like they had every spare moment since the Snap had been reversed. It was risky, Steve had said; Red Skull wasn't going to make anything easy, and neither was Thanos. But Steve wasn't a quitter; he'd promised to bring Natasha home to Sam, Vision back to Wanda, and Tony to Pepper if he could at all swing it.He'd swung it alright; hit a home run straight through a plate glass window...
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Pre - James "Bucky" Barnes/Pepper Potts/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 22
Kudos: 57
Collections: Stucky Bingo 2019





	1. Sunday, December 17th, 2023

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Stucky Bingo 2019  
Square filled: De-aged
> 
> This fic started out as a vague plotbunny to vent my many feels after Endgame, and now it's 50k long (omg!) 
> 
> The title comes from the song "We Found Love" by Rhianna featuring Calvin Harris, which you can find the lyrics to [Here](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/rihanna/wefoundlove.html)
> 
> I listened to the Boyce Avenue cover on repeat many times writing this fic, it is lovely, and you can listen to it [Here](https://youtu.be/6I3kgbBp6PY)
> 
> This fic gave me a lot of feels writing it, and I hope you enjoy!

☆

Steve had told him everything the night before as they'd laid in bed, kissing away five years worth of tears and lost time like they had every spare moment since the Snap had been reversed. It was risky, Steve had said; Red Skull wasn't going to make anything easy, and neither was Thanos. But Steve wasn't a quitter; he'd promised to bring Natasha home to Sam, Vision back to Wanda, and Tony to Pepper if he could at all swing it. 

_ He'd swung it alright; hit a home run straight through a plate glass window... _

Bucky lunged for Steve's smoldering body before the quantum platform had even finished powering down. Tony and Natasha were struggling to hold Steve upright between them, all of them covered in blood and ash and looking like they were ready to drop. 

"What the hell did he do?!"

"I don't know! He ripped the gauntlet away from Danvers and-"

"Fucking punk!" Bucky’s voice cracked high and sharp. God, he wished Steve was conscious just so he could knock him out again, _ goddamn reckless- _

"Barnes." Natasha touched his shoulder; her hand was shaking, just like her voice, and every single fiber of Bucky's soul. When he saw the tears welling in her eyes, his heart dropped through the floor. "He gave up the serum."

"No." Bucky's metal fingers dug harder into the melted chestplate of Steve's suit, "No! He's gotta- He promised! He pr- Banner! Do something, send him back!"

"I- I can't send him back, there's nowhere to- Tony, the- the thing, the thing we used on Scott. You think-"

Tony was already running for his tools. "Gimme two seconds."

"Come on, Stevie, don't die on me." Bucky murmured desperately, wiping streaks of blood and dirt away from Steve's charred temple. No way was he gonna let another fight take Steve away from him. _ Please don't take him yet. Please, please, please... _

"Ready." Bruce clicked a long metal canister into a groove on the back of the tunnel and flipped a switch. "Everyone stand back. Steve needs to absorb as many of the quantum particles as possible."

Bucky stepped to the side next to Natasha, allowing her to silently white-knuckle his arm for her own sanity as much as his. Rainbows flashed, golden particles sparked, Steve's eyes flew open with a raw gasp that cut off sharply as he disappeared into the light. 

"Six, five, four, three, two, one."

☆

Steve's dreams had been taking a depressing turn for the worse lately; nothing specific that he could remember when he woke up, just a lot of grief and sadness and feeling downhearted.

This wasn't that. 

Steve thrashed violently trying to wake up; the dream, the _ nightmare _ surrounding him felt so real. He was floating in a - he didn't even have words to describe it - in a world of shapelessness that constantly shifted and warped with no sense of purpose. Worse still, _ Steve _ felt like he had no sense of purpose; like the swirling, blurring watercolors were slowly washing him out of existence. 

Curling his hands into fists, he gathered up what little wits he had left and pinched himself hard in the thigh. He barely felt it, but the effort was enough to start chasing away the last misty shreds of color from his mind. Feeling himself starting to wake up, Steve rolled onto his side to hunker into the warmth of Bucky's chest a little longer. 

"Steve?" Bucky murmured, closing a hand lightly around his wrist and brushing a gentle thumb over his stuttering pulse. "You still with me, baby?" 

_ Baby… _ Bucky never called him baby. Steve wished he could sleep forever just to hear him say it again. Bucky's other hand came up to touch his cheek. Steve wrinkled his brow with a groan and started opening his eyes. Bucky's hand felt smooth, cold, almost like… 

"THE HELL?!" Steve shot up from the floor of the platform and stumbled sideways into a table, swearing up a blue streak as he coughed and struggled to catch his breath. "What the fuck was that?!"

"Oh, my God…" 

Bucky could feel everyone staring even as he hurried to pull on his leather glove. They all watched Steve wipe a trickle of blood from his nose onto the back of his knuckles, stand up straight, and turn around. Steve's eyes went wide at the room full of beings gaping at him. "Who the hell are you?"

"Steve?" 

"Buck?" Steve's unfocused eyes darted to his left where Bucky had taken a few tentative steps backward. He took Bucky in from his long hair and thick beard to the toes of his scuffed work boots, coming back to linger on his face with an expression of fear and confusion. "What... what's going on?" 

"I think you've got it from here." Bruce quietly nudged Tony back towards the house with Vision and Natasha following close behind. At the doorway, Natasha turned back to throw a wistful glance over her shoulder before she closed the door. 

Bucky hadn't taken his eyes off of Steve once. He felt like he was looking at a ghost. A wheezing, ninety pound flesh and blood ghost. He licked his chapped lips nervously. "You okay?" 

"I'm… Yeah, I'm okay, but," Steve shook his head, finally taking a solid look at his surroundings. The platform, the tunnel, the ugly brown van, the gadgets and gizmos covered in dust... "Where are we? What… what happened to you?"

_ Too much, _ Bucky wanted to say; _ too much too fast what the hell were you thinking, Steve _? But he knew the answer, even as Steve stood there waiting to make sure his best friend was alright before tending to himself. 

"Yeah, uhm." Bucky blew out a small breath to keep from passing out. His brain was racing trying to figure out how much time Steve had lost and how to summarize the last eighty years without sending him into an attack of nerves. "It's a really long story. You know all those Buck Rogers we used to read? Well, it was sort of like that; there was a war, and you and I were fighting these scientists, and we both ended up in suspended animation. I got out sooner than you did, and then you fought spacemen. It's…" Bucky blushed at the unimpressed brow Steve was raising at him. "I know it sounds crazy, but it's all true, I swear."

"Uh-huh." Steve balled up a piece of melted plastic from his quantum suit and flicked it like a pea off the palm of his other hand. "And I suppose I'm Wilma Deering. Pull the other one, Buck."

"I mean it!" Bucky could feel his body starting to shake; the idea that Steve didn't believe him was almost more terrifying than losing Steve altogether. "I'm not lying, Steve. I swear. It's- it's- _ here _." Bucky pulled up his left coat sleeve just high enough to expose a thin sliver of vibranium. 

Steve took a step closer to squint. "What's that?"

"My arm," Bucky swallowed, "I lost it during the war. It goes all the way to my shoulder."

Steve's gaze flicked up to meet Bucky's sad, scared, stormy gray eyes; he felt something inside of himself curl uncomfortably and drop to his toes. Carefully, he reached out to touch a single fingertip to the metal. It was _ cold _. 

_ "Sweet Jesus." _

"You gonna be okay, pal?" Bucky watched his friend's face blanch with suppressed nausea, but Steve only took a shaky breath and nodded. "Good. That's good. Come on, let's go find you some warmer clothes."

Bucky tugged his sleeve back down and led Steve out of the garage. It broke his heart a little that Steve kept his distance as they walked back to the cabin. He understood; he'd done the same thing when Steve had found him in Bucharest, but it still made him incredibly sad to watch Steve bottle everything up. 

They found their friends gathered in the kitchen; Natasha sitting on Sam's lap with her head nestled in the crook of his neck, Tony with Morgan on his hip and Pepper a hands-breadth away at the counter fixing a pot of coffee while Tony made Morgan her favorite kind of cocoa. They all glanced in Steve's direction when the door opened, each face going through a complex mix of emotions that Bucky felt twist deep in his gut. 

Steve blushed and ducked his head a little, unused to being the center of so much attention. "Um, Bucky said I might be able to borrow some clothes." 

"Of course, Steve." Pepper said kindly, wiping her hands on a towel and beckoning toward the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. "I'm sure we can find something. There's plenty of hot water if you'd like a shower, too."

"Thank you, ma'am, I'd appreciate that." Steve threw Bucky a single questioning glance over his shoulder as he followed Pepper out of the room.

As soon as Steve disappeared from sight Bucky's knees gave out and he collapsed into the nearest chair, burrowing his face into his folded arms and breathing hard. The only thing keeping him from passing out entirely was Sam's heavy grip on the back of his neck and the fact that he didn't want to traumatize Morgan by falling apart. Poor kid had been through enough… 

"Is Bucky okay, Daddy?" 

"Sure, honey bunch, he's just tired out from all the excitement." Bucky heard Tony drop three big marshmallows into Morgan's cup, and shift her higher on his hip. 

"Where's Stevie?"

Bucky flinched.

"Upstairs with Mommy," Tony said, dragging a chair out from the table and sitting down. "Oh, here she is."

Bucky raised his head to look, but Pepper had come back alone. The way his stomach and heart were still switching places on him it was probably a good thing. Natasha's fingers squeezed his right shoulder comfortingly. "He'll be fine."

"I know." Bucky took a deep breath, let it out, sat up straight and gratefully accepted the mug of hot coffee Pepper set in front of him. "Thanks."

"Nat's right, Bucky. He's gonna be okay." Pepper's smile was tired, especially at the corners of her red rimmed eyes and the tight line of her jaw. Bucky had only known her for a few months, but in that time she seemed to have aged five years. They all had, really; even Sam was starting to get a few grays here and there, and Steve… 

God, how old was Steve now? Twenty four? Twenty five? In less than three minutes Steve had de-aged over ten years, not to mention losing the ser- 

"Oh, God- I gotta- I'm sorry." 

The others watched quietly as Bucky pushed his chair back and hurried outside for some fresh air. His head was spinning. He couldn't breathe. He was gonna throw up. 

A wave of long forgotten panic roiled in Bucky's gut. _ Steve was going to die. _ Maybe not today, maybe not even soon, but the fact remained that without the serum, Steve was going to get older and die if he didn't catch a bug he couldn't fight off, or get into another stupid fight with somebody three times his size. 

The secondary realization that that was _ exactly what had happened _ was enough to finish the job of emptying Bucky's stomach. 

When he could breathe again, he kicked some snow over where he'd been sick and staggered back to the house for one of the super-strength painkillers his doctor had formulated for his tension headaches. 

A rush of warm, spicy air and a peal of laughter wafted in to meet him as he stepped out of his boots and helped himself to a fresh cup of coffee. Steve had apparently finished his shower and joined the others in the living room, where they were decorating the Christmas tree and nibbling cookies. Bucky watched them all for a minute from the doorway; Sam and Natasha were trying their best to bring Steve out of his shell with funny stories and jokes they knew he enjoyed.

Bucky could read in their eyes how much it hurt them to see Steve so reserved and quiet; but they hadn't known him before he found his self-confidence. Before he got the serum and collected a ragtag team of boisterous guys who quickly became his best friends. Before he met Peggy, who believed in him more than almost anyone else in the world...

"Hey, tin man." 

Steve looked up to see who Tony was addressing, then his eyes met Bucky's and he blushed. The only thing keeping Bucky from turning twice as red was the grin that Sam was giving him from the sofa where he and Nat were sorting through a box of ornaments. 

Instead of giving Sam the satisfaction of seeing him blush, Bucky pushed his hands into his pockets and returned the smile. "Anything I can do?"

"You could always help Steve with the lights." Natasha suggested sweetly, her own hands full of tarnished metallic bead garlands. 

On the floor, Steve had several large knots of string lights draped over his lap, the rug, and one end of the coffee table. He dropped his gaze back to his hands, the flush on his ears deepening as Bucky settled across from him and picked up a mess of star shaped lights. The familiar sight of Steve turning into a scalded tomato made Bucky turn his body half towards Natasha to redirect everyone's attention. 

"Did Bruce and Vision head back already?"

"Wanda was sending very excited telepathic messages," Natasha chuckled, still hanging onto Sam's elbow for dear life. Bucky didn't blame her; coming back from the dead wasn't an easy thing to wrap your head around, even if most of them had done it at least once. Tony still looked a tad wild around the eyes, too; Bucky wished he didn't know how bad the poor guy's nightmares were gonna be that night...

"Pep said you guys are rebuilding the Compound?" Tony asked, carefully setting aside one of Morgan's homemade popsicle stick ornaments for a glue repair. 

"Yeah. The foundations were still good in the south wing, so we've got a dorm and common area. Built the whole thing ourselves." Bucky bit back a comment about how good Steve had looked gleaming with sweat that summer, lifting beams and laying cement to help Carol finish the roof. He'd even gone shirtless once or twice to show off for Bucky's benefit.

"I'm sorry I missed that." 

Bucky flicked his eyes up from his tangle of lights to find Natasha smirking at him like she could read his thoughts; then again, he and Steve being an item had never been a secret. Their team's short trips to Wakanda for supplies had been almost non-stop smooching… on the same hand... 

"Sam did the drywall."

"Really?" Nat's right eyebrow quirked in interest; she and Sam being an item wasn't a secret, either. 

Sam smiled brightly and winked. "Oh, yeah. I'm a real handyman."

"Mmm, I know."

Pepper snickered and Tony rolled his eyes. "Natalie, please. Not in front of the children."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Steve had been silent throughout the whole conversation; when Bucky glanced at him from the corner of his eye he understood why. Steve's face, ears, neck and hands were all bright red. At least when Bucky raised an eyebrow at him, Sam had the decency to look sheepish. 

"So, um," Sam cleared his throat, taking Natasha's hand nervously after wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, "I was wondering if you'd come to New Orleans with me for the holidays; meet my family. My mom makes the best Christmas gumbo you've ever tasted."

Bucky had known Natasha longer than anyone, but watching the way her smile went shy as she tucked a strand of scarlet and blonde hair behind her ear made his heart grow three sizes. She squeezed Sam's hand and gave him a soft peck on the cheek. 

"I'd love to."

Bucky shook his head fondly and got back to detangling lights. Steve's blush had relaxed somewhat now that Sam, Natasha, and Pepper were discussing their holiday plans, but the air around him still felt on edge; every few minutes he'd sneak a look at Tony, and his brows would knit lower and lower. Eventually, Steve carefully pushed the lights off his lap and excused himself from the room. Bucky watched him go with a tired sigh. 

"Bucky?" Pepper's gaze had followed Steve, too; she looked as worried as Bucky felt. "Why don't you and Steve stay here for Christmas? It might be more comfortable than the Compound."

Bucky swallowed the lump of gravel in his throat and nodded. "If it won't be an inconvenience."

"Not at all. It would be my pleasure." The weight Pepper put behind the words and her imploring gaze made Bucky's heart squeeze tight in his chest. Steve had told him about Tony's last few minutes on the field; he'd witnessed for himself what the past six months of grief had done to Pepper. Bucky realized they were both going through a major change; having someone around to share it with probably wasn't the worst idea. 

Feeling the charged atmosphere in the room, Sam glanced at his watch and nudged Natasha's arm gently. "We'd better get going. Lotta road to cover in a week."

"Take the jet." Tony offered quickly, desperate to do something to clear the air. "We still have a jet, right?"

Pepper brushed loose tinsel off her knees and got up to find Sam the keys to the nearest hangar. "Yes, Tony, we still have a jet." 

"Oh, good. That's... yeah. Good." Tony blinked and shook his head, then he went back to helping Morgan decorate the tree.

Steve had been gone a while, and since everyone was doing their own thing, Bucky got up to check on him. He found Steve in the kitchen watching the snow falling over the yard beyond the screen door. In the dwindling gray light he looked even smaller than Bucky remembered. Steve must have heard him come in, because he turned sharply, gaze searching for a split second before settling back into reserved stillness. 

Letting out a silent breath, Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and leaned on the doorframe. "Sure is pretty out there."

Steve turned his head to eye Bucky up and down again. He _ knew _ Bucky wasn't being level with him about something, but the situation was so far beyond his experience he had no idea which cracks to even start poking at. 

"What war was it?" he asked, not meeting Bucky's eyes again. He could feel his heart racing wildly as he watched Bucky mull over the question. 

"World War Two. We went in around 1943, me first, then you. It was… it was rough, on everyone."

"Did we win?"

"The allies? Yeah, eventually. Us?" Bucky shook his head. "No, we didn't."

"Sorry." Steve looked away, silently working his jaw. He wasn't sure what to think. On the one hand the whole idea of suspended animation was ridiculous; just something you read about in pulps. On the other… 

"Pepper's invited us to stay for Christmas." Bucky said, breaking Steve's train of thought. He chewed his lip nervously, and Steve felt his stomach churn a little. "Thought it might be easier on you than going straight back to the Compound."

"What's at the Compound?" Steve asked quietly. The way Bucky and Sam had talked about it, the place had sounded like somewhere they called home. The way Bucky was standing now, tense and almost curling in on himself, Steve wondered if there was anywhere he called home anymore. 

"A different life." Bucky turned his head so he could watch the snowflakes; they were getting bigger, drifting down in piles against the roots of the trees. "Different friends, good friends, just… it's a really different world than the one you remember. It takes some getting used to."

There wasn't really anything Steve could say to that. 

"Hey," Bucky grinned, poking Steve's elbow with one of his gloved metal fingers, "let's do something nice and make dinner so Pepper can have a night off her feet."

"Sounds great." Steve let out a huff and a smile, his frayed nerves settling the moment Bucky touched him. He wasn't entirely at ease; wasn't sure he ever would be; but he felt a little better, enough that he didn't want to shake out of his skin anymore. 

For dinner they made chicken and biscuits, green beans, and an apple cobbler. Pepper almost cried when she came in to start cooking and found the work half done, but Bucky had patted her hand and told her it was alright, to go and put her feet up, they had everything taken care of. Tony had been confused, but Bucky had said something low in his ear and he'd nodded and gone back to spend time with his family. 

Morgan had declared the meal "Yummy!"

"You like that, huh?" Bucky grinned, snapping lids on single serving Tupperware containers of cobbler for the next day's breakfast. Steve, who was up to his elbows in soapy water, cracked a smile over his shoulder watching them; Morgan had pulled a chair up to the counter so she could "help", which mostly meant licking apple filling off her fingers from the baking dish. 

"I like the other one, too," she said, happily munching on a piece of cobbler topping that Bucky had sneaked to her from the last container.

"Oh, yeah? Which one's that?"

"With the cherries." Morgan giggled, holding onto the back of the chair when Bucky picked it up and set it down by the sink so she could wash her hands. "They're juicy."

"Hm, and sticky like these little fingers." Bucky finished, drying Morgan's hands on a dishtowel and lifting her gently to the floor. 

"Thanks, Bucky!"

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Now go check on Mommy."

Bucky found Steve smiling at him when he turned back around to help dry the dishes. He looked… okay, finally. 

"What's that look for?" Bucky asked, nudging Steve's foot with his toe, and stacking the first dry plates in the cupboard. 

"You're a sap, Barnes."

"Yeah, like you're any better." 

Steve tossed his head back and laughed, deep and rich and full. The sound took Bucky's breath away and made his heart stutter; it had been so long since he'd heard Steve really _laugh _without an undercurrent of depressed irony. 

Until then, Bucky hadn't noticed what Steve was wearing, either, but now he couldn't tear his gaze away; a pair of Tony's skinniest black jeans with at least six inches of cuff rolled above bare ankles, a striped long sleeve shirt, a zip-up sweatshirt, and a pair of Pepper’s hiking boots, all of which _ still _ looked a size too big. Vertigo mixed with déjà vu and something much deeper swirled in Bucky's insides as he silently finished his chores. 

Yesterday, he would have been dragging Steve in for a kiss, tugging at him to leave the dishes until morning, finding somewhere quiet to make out and make up for lost time. 

But now he wondered… _ he wondered. _

Bucky put away the last dish as Steve rinsed his hands and dried them, then they stood awkwardly facing each other, both waiting for his friend to speak up first. "Come on." Bucky inclined his head in the direction of the living room. 

"Where we going?"

Pushing down the distant, fuzzy memory of another time, another place when Steve had asked him the very same thing, Bucky gently herded him towards the soft glow of Christmas lights. 

"To be social for a little while before bed. I promise, no one bites."

☆

Steve waited for the soft click of the bedroom door to close behind him before blowing out a heavy sigh. He was alone, finally; not that he disliked being sociable, but making small-talk with strangers had never been his strongest skill. Laying out his bundle of pajamas on the bed, Steve unzipped his sweatshirt and started to strip. 

He hadn't thought to ask Bucky earlier, or maybe never found the right moment to, but the suit he'd been wearing; the way the entire right arm from fingertips to shoulder was a mess of charred, flaking material that smelled like blood...

Not for the first time that day, a hit of eerie unease washed through Steve's stomach as he traced his fingertips over the skin of his right arm. An intricate lightning pattern of reddish-pink scars trailed from just below his collarbone to the middle of his forearm, while everything from his forearm to fingernails was evenly pale like some of the scars he'd seen on soldiers who'd been burned in the war.

A shiver ran up Steve's spine that had nothing to do with standing half-naked in a chilly room. 

There was another thing, too; Tony and Pepper, really all of the people he'd encountered that day, seemed familiar in a way he couldn't put his finger on. Had he met them somewhere and just forgotten about it? Were they Bucky's friends from school or work? Not the red and silver man with the cape, and certainly not the green giant. Both of the women were at least fifteen years older than him, the men closer to twenty. Hell, even Bucky- 

Steve grit his teeth against a spasm of pain shooting up his arm and made himself finish changing his clothes before that thought went too far. The pajamas Pepper had found for him were about the same size as the jeans, but made from thin plaid flannel.

He also had a double bed all to himself, a couple of thick, fuzzy, blue and white blankets and quilts, and three incredibly fluffy pillows. Steve put his pajamas on and got into bed, then he lay there tossing and turning on the over-soft mattress trying to get comfortable. 

That had been... one of the weirdest days he'd ever had... and the _ timing _. He'd only buried his ma two months ago; couldn't God have waited a little longer to test him with the trials of Job?

Steve's throat prickled and he buried his face in a pillow; he hadn't even gotten to offer a Mass for her yet. There'd been so many folks ahead of him who'd needed the prayers more, he'd waited until the schedule wasn't so busy, and now… 

Steve squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think too hard about it. His life hadn't been the best when he'd gone to sleep last night, but it had been familiar. He'd managed to settle into a routine that worked with his crappy health, he'd had a decent job that only made him a little more tired than he already was, and he'd just about sorted out his feelings for Bucky...

_ Fuck. _

On top of the sore throat and breaking heart, Steve felt his stomach do a cartwheel. He'd been pining after Bucky for almost two years without making the connection that he could do something about it; once that realization set in, he couldn't think about a whole hell of a lot else. But, since Bucky had never said anything to suggest that he felt the same way, Steve was doing his best to move on.

The only problem was that he didn't want to move on. He loved Bucky; really, truly, with all his heart, _ loved _ him and couldn't imagine his life without him. 

Bucky looked so different now; not just the arm, which Steve didn't think he was ready to see yet. Bucky was older; taller, broader, more solid muscle than boyish angles. His eyes were deeply sad even when he was smiling. His beard, too, which only yesterday had been barely enough scraggly fuzz to shave, was thick and sprinkled through with gray. 

The way Bucky had looked at him earlier, like he'd hung the goddamn stars in the sky, made him jealous of his future self. What kind of life had they had together? Were they in love? Had future Bucky swept him off his feet when he'd first woken up in the new century like Sleeping Beauty? 

Steve knew he wasn't as upset about the sudden change in his life as he would be once it all had time to sink in. But then maybe he wanted a chance to have the life with Bucky that his future self had given up for reasons he still didn't understand. Maybe he just liked the way that Bucky blushed, and spoke softly to him, and the fact that he'd made Bucky _ smile _.

Oh, God, his heart was a mess…

Ignoring the throbbing ache creeping in on various parts of his body, Steve rolled over one last time and did his best to go to sleep.

☆


	2. Monday, December 18th

Steve opened his eyes the next morning to a world of hurt. Everything hurt. Every last muscle and joint in his body hurt. By the time he'd managed to wash up, clean his teeth with the sparkly pink toothbrush Morgan had given him, and put his clothes back on, he was fighting back tears. 

Grinning through pain had never been something he’d needed to do with Bucky, but being a guest in someone else's home, Steve felt he needed to make an effort. Slapping on the closest thing to a smile he could manage, Steve gingerly picked his way down the stairs to breakfast. Bucky took one look at him and pointed a greasy spatula firmly towards a chair. 

"Sit."

"Buck-"

_ "Sit!" _

Steve sat, crossing his arms and shooting Bucky a peevish glare. Across the table, Morgan pressed her hands over her mouth and giggled.

"What's so funny?" Steve pretended to frown, pushing out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout. "Huh? You think somebody's being funny?"

"Bucky said shit!"

"Language!" Tony yelped, suddenly rounding the corner with a breakfast tray in one hand and a fancy coffee press in the other. "For gosh sake, Barnes, there are children present."

Bucky sighed and rolled his eyes, "I said s-i-t, not s-h-i-t. Ask ol' grump face what he wants for breakfast."

Tony grinned gleefully. "Are we having a tiff this morning?"

" _ We _ ," Steve grumbled, "just want to make ourselves something to eat, so  _ we _ can take an aspirin," as a side thought he added, "please tell me the future has aspirin."

"It does, but there's better options now that won't upset your stomach." Bucky scraped up four plates of scrambled eggs and the previous night’s reheated cobbler, setting down one each for himself and Steve, while Tony added some ketchup to Morgan's eggs and a sprinkle of chilli powder to his own. Bucky chewed thoughtfully for a minute while they all dug into their food, then he bit his lip. "I've gotta go into town for supplies. Maybe you want to come with me? You're gonna need clothes at least, and we could pick up something for the pain."

Bucky’s heart teetered on the edge of resignation; he knew better than to hope anymore, no matter how desperately he wanted to. He could already see the wheels turning in Steve's brain, trying to find the catch in the deal that was too good to be true. Not that there was anything  _ good _ that Bucky could offer him... 

"Yeah, sure." Steve said, surprisingly nonchalant for someone who'd had a serious shock the day before and woken up in so much pain. "When do we leave?"

"Uh, whenever you want." Bucky glanced at the clock on the wall above the gardening calendar and calculated when the stores would be open. "You need anything while we're out, Tony?"

“Hmmm, nope, not that I know. How ‘bout you, miss Morgan?”

“Bananas!”

“Bananas it is.” Bucky chuckled quietly and finished his breakfast.

☆

Twenty minutes later, Steve climbed into the passenger side of Bucky's ancient stormcloud gray pickup, shifting his sore backside on the stiff seat and trying not to hack on the musty smell coming from the upholstery. Bucky slid in beside him and turned the ignition. A blast of hot air to the face took Steve’s breath away and he gave a huge, full body shiver.

"Thank God you have heat." 

"And seat belts," Bucky waved an index finger at the strap hanging by Steve's right shoulder. "Pull that over and snap the metal things together."

Steve held his breath while Bucky reached over him to unjam the strap. He smelled better than Steve remembered, not that he didn't love the smell of Bucky freshly washed on a Sunday morning during church, but now... Bucky finished fixing both of their seat belts, and pulled into the lane leading away from the cabin. Steve shivered and huddled closer to the heater for warmth; outside of the truck he could see nothing but trees and deep drifts of snow. It took him a minute to realize Bucky's truck had a snow plow attached to the front, and that he was slowly clearing what amounted to the Stark's mile long driveway. 

"You gonna plow the whole county?"

Bucky glanced at Steve with a grin and gunned the engine enough to make the snow swirl up in big waves, then he slowed back down and turned on the wipers so he could see where they were going. "Everybody's got a plow around here. There hasn't been any kind of road service for a while."

No road service… different aspirin… 

"Mind if I ask a question?" Steve stared out at the winding, white road ahead of them; his heart was starting to race with anxiety, but at the same time it was sinking with dread at whatever Bucky was going to say. "What happened when you woke up?"

Bucky kept his eyes on the road. For nearly a full minute he didn't say anything; when he did his voice sounded thick and gravelly. "A lot. I'll tell you what I remember, but… you're gonna have to ask Tony or Pepper about the last five years."

"What happened then?" Steve's stomach dropped to his feet as they rounded the corner to the main road and he found himself facing a tableau of frozen desolation.

"Half the universe died."

☆

Tony heaved a sigh of relief as soon as Bucky's truck lumbered out of sight into the trees at the end of the driveway. He hadn't realized how much tension he'd been holding in his jaw until it let him know with a loud crack and a zing of pain through his ear.

God… what a shitshow.

Heading back to the living room, he slumped down onto the couch and squeezed the bridge of his nose. Pocket sized Steve was just as exhausting as brick-shithouse Steve; and  _ Bucky- _

"Hey." 

Tony looked up to see Pepper sit beside him with Morgan settling into her lap to play with some kind of puzzle toy made from wood and knotted string. Pepper's eyes looked as exhausted as Tony felt; not surprising with the amount of tossing and turning she'd done when they'd finally made it to bed last night. Tony had been too wired to sleep at all. 

"Hi." Tony murmured softly, reaching out to brush a piece of fuzzy lint from Pepper's shoulder, feeling a tight little twinge of worry now that he was noticing she hadn't washed her hair, either. "You okay?"

"Just tired." Pepper smiled like she was talking to a client whom she was only being polite to for the company's sake. Tony knew that look backwards, forwards and upside down, but he'd never once been on the receiving end of it. Pepper glanced away slightly at Tony's gently disbelieving stare. "The last few days have been a lot for all of us." 

"Us?" Tony's stomach did a flip; he had a sinking suspicion he wasn't meant to be included in that statement. 

Pepper sighed and brushed Morgan's hair out of her eyes. "You've been gone a long time, Tony. Life had to keep going.  _ We _ had to keep going. Steve and Bucky have been coming over a couple days a week to help us, in between working on the Compound."

"Bucky." 

"Yes. Bucky." Pepper's flat expression didn't waver. "He's our friend."

"Okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Tony nodded, swallowing down whatever else he'd wanted to say. "You're right. I've been gone for a while. I'm glad you have people looking out for you. It's good."

"Thank you, Tony." Pepper's smile finally relaxed into one she used when they were together and relatively happy. She leaned over to kiss his cheek, then she leaned back against the armrest, letting her eyes drift closed.

Tony wished he knew what to do to help her, but apparently that wasn't his job anymore; not if… if Pepper didn't want it to be. "I'm gonna… go find something useful to do. Get out of your hair. Something."

Pepper only huffed a fond laugh under her breath and snuggled Morgan more comfortably on her chest. Even Morgan, who'd practically been glued to Tony's hip since she was old enough to crawl didn't seem to notice him slipping backward out of the room. 

Once he reached the stairs he realized he was clueless as to what to do next. The thought of visiting the garage filled him with existential panic; on a whim, he decided to climb the stairs to the attic to see if there was anything he could fix or organize up there. The place wasn't exactly a lab, but it was quiet, and there was enough junk lying around to tinker with so he could think. 

What the hell was he supposed to think, though?

Pepper had moved on without him. Morgan barely spoke to him. Steve didn't even  _ know _ him, for God's sake. Bucky... 

Tony wrenched the top off of an old jam jar full of beads, sending the lot skittering across the floor like his last remaining brain cells. 

He didn't even have it in him to hate Bucky anymore. Getting to make peace with his old man before they both died helped heal that part of him, he guessed. Howard was a shitty parent, but at least Tony knew now that he had cared. And after watching half the universe die at the snap of a finger, one brainwashed assassin...  _ one prisoner of war, _ didn't really make much of a difference.

Sinking into a crouch, Tony started picking up beads one by one and dropping them back into the jar. 

None of them were the same people anymore. Like Pepper had said; a lot had happened to all of them. Tony didn't have to like it, but he had to deal with it, adapt to it, learn new ways of solving problems. For once in his life  _ he _ was the unknown variable in an established set of rules; rules he knew not to push too far unless he wanted to lose everything. 

Spotting the last bead under a shapeless, blanket covered lump, Tony knee-walked over and dropped it into the jar, screwing the lid back on tightly and setting it aside. He tipped his head sideways and closed one eye, trying to remember what the heck he'd stored up there that was that specific shape, then his eyes popped open wide.

DUM-E.

Confined to the attic before Morgan was born, Tony's first robot had been silently gathering dust waiting for him to remember his existence. Folding the drop-sheet, Tony flicked the on switch behind DUM-E's arm base, ready to welcome him back to life with open… er… 

Why was nothing happening? 

Wiggling the motor cover off, Tony peered inside as well as he could in the weak winter light. The miniature arc reactor inside was still glowing through a thick film of dust, but the chip that contained all of DUM-E's programming was corroded right through. 

Tony sank down to sit cross-legged beside DUM-E, dropping his head into his hands and gripping his hair tightly to keep his brain from breaking. He didn't know what else had changed without him, but he knew he really, really, wasn't ready to find out.

  
  


☆

Bucky had kept his word; he'd explained their future lives the best he could, not that any of it made sense, or any real difference, in the end. Bucky’d said the "Snap" was straight out of H.G. Wells; an attack from space no one had been ready for. A lot of people died, both from the Snap itself and the aftermath that followed, but then some of them came back five years later to a world that had moved on without them. 

The warehouse full of second hand clothing Bucky drove Steve to felt like a graveyard; silent, empty, with an air of gloom that seemed to go on for miles, just like the endless gray aisles of clothes and personal effects.

While Bucky browsed books and housewares, Steve grabbed the things he needed as quickly as possible. A warm coat, a thick sweater, two pairs of dungarees, two shirts, a pair of shoes that actually fit, a pair of pajamas, a set of wool socks, and a packet of something vaguely resembling drawers in what he hoped were the correct size. He nearly had a heart attack when Bucky whipped a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet to pay for everything, nodding politely to the listless young woman at the register, and leading Steve back out to the truck.

"Got everything you need?” Bucky asked, glancing warily at the abandoned restaurants, salons, book shops, and cafes in the strip mall across the street. 

Steve nodded and fastened his seat belt. The heavy scent of chemicals and cigarettes clinging to his new coat was making his lungs burn like crazy. “Mind if I roll down a window?”   


“Yeah, go ahead.” Bucky pulled out of the parking lot and turned slowly back onto the icy road. The herbalist was only a couple of blocks away, but the way Steve's breathing was starting to sound concerned him enough to change his plans. “You want me to take you to the clinic for that?” 

“I’m fine.” Steve resisted the urge to rub his chest. “I don’t need a doctor for a lousy bottle of aspirin.” The truth of the matter was he didn’t have any money to pay for one, and until he could find a job -  _ or figure out how to get home _ \- he wasn’t about to rack up more debts than he had to. It was bad enough that he’d had to accept Bucky paying for his clothes. That, and the thought of having to smoke one more pack of asthma cigarettes made him want to pitch a fit.

“Steve.” Bucky’s voice had taken on the particular tone that made Steve want to roll his eyes so far back he swallowed them. “I am intimately acquainted with your health problems. Let me take you to the damn clinic.”

“I said I’m  _ fine. _ ” 

Bucky pursed his lips tight and swerved the car into the nearest empty side street. Steve had to brace himself on the dashboard to keep from sliding into Bucky’s elbow, but once the car was parked he turned in his seat and glared. 

“What the hell was that for?” 

“You know damn well what for.”

Steve’s nostrils flared in irritation. His lungs had progressed from burning to blistering; he had a headache from hell, and his body still hurt from whatever torture device he’d been sucked through the day before. “Why'd you bring me back?” 

Bucky went very, very still. “What?”

“You said I saved the world, helped bring everybody back from the dead. Why didn’t you let me do something useful for once in my life.”

_ “Jesus Mahogany Christ.” _ Bucky let his head drop back onto the headrest with a groan. "We are not having this argument again."

"What argument?"

"Nothing." Bucky shook his head quietly; he didn't snap or huff like he usually did when he was sick of Steve's bull. He just sounded resigned. "Nothing. Just… please let me help. Okay?"

"Okay." Steve dropped his gaze to the plastic bag between his feet, folded his hands in his lap, and didn't complain when Bucky leaned across his seat to unstick the window that had iced up. He felt like a heel for snapping at his best friend; imminent lung combustion aside, Steve knew he didn't deserve it. Bucky'd been there for him since the beginning, was the only one who came to check on him when his ma passed...

Bucky drove as quickly as the icy roads allowed to the clinic nestled between an open law office and a small food co-operative. The area looked a little less like a ghost town than most of the places Steve had seen on their drive that day; a few other shops in the area had even hung up lights and decorations. On the town green a group of people were in the process of trimming a beautiful, tall spruce with long strings of multicolored lights and wooden angels. The sight brought a surprised little smile to Steve's lips. 

"Pretty." Bucky was smiling, too. Steve felt his heart skip a beat that had nothing to do with his crappy health, and he looked away before Bucky could see him blush. 

"Come on, punk." Bucky said, poking Steve to get out of the truck and follow him inside. "Let's get you fixed up."

The clinic was nothing like Steve had been expecting; for one thing it was extremely cheerful compared to the warehouse. Each wall was painted a different color, the plush, mismatched chairs actually looked comfortable, and the nurses were all wearing bright, pajama-like uniforms. 

Bucky pointed Steve to a chair to wait while he went up to the desk to speak with the receptionist. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but the Colgate smile she flashed at Bucky was warm and familiar. Feeling his lungs getting tighter, Steve peeled his coat off and folded it in his lap as Bucky came back to take a seat next to him. 

"It'll just be a couple of minutes."

"Been charming the nurses again?" Steve smirked through a painful muscle spasm in his upper back.

Bucky let out a barking laugh that made two other waiting patients and the receptionist look up in open admiration. Steve couldn't say he blamed them. 

"Punk." Bucky shook his head fondly, then he lowered his voice. "The doctor already has your file, you're just gonna update the information and get your pills."

"How…" Steve started to ask, but then he remembered what Bucky had said about him living in the future for the past eleven years and decided not to think too hard about it. 

"Steve?" a young Latina woman with blue-streaked hair, and holding a matching blue clipboard called from an open doorway. Bucky took Steve's smelly coat and nodded for him to get going, saying he'd be there when Steve got out. Steve gave the doctor a polite smile and followed her down the hall. 

"We're in here today," she said, unlocking a green door from a fuzzy pink keyring on her belt-loop, and gesturing for Steve to go inside. 

The room was tiny; a padlocked cabinet above a small sink, a rolling stool, and a padded exam table were all crammed in the space of a large closet. Steve hoisted himself onto the table to give the doctor more room to move around.

"So," Doctor - Luna Rodriguez, ND, according to her nametag - settled on the stool and took another look at Steve's chart, "what can I help you with this morning?"

"My asthma's bothering me a little bit. But mostly my joints hurt." 

"I don't see asthma here on your chart; has it only started recently?"

"No, ma'am, I've had it my whole life. My last doctor gave me asthma cigarettes for it."

"Asthma  _ cigarettes _ ." Dr. Rodriguez glanced incredulously over the top of Steve's chart. "When was this treatment prescribed for you?" 

"Nineteen thirty two."

" _ What the fu.. _ ." Dr. Rodriguez swore under her breath as she scribbled something down, then she took out her stethoscope and motioned for Steve to turn around so she could listen to his lungs. "Anything else?"

Steve shrugged; he figured he didn't really have anything to lose.

"My heart's weak from rheumatic fever. I've been taking aspirin for that, but they make my ulcers act up. And, uh…" he had to stop a moment for a prolonged coughing fit, "then there's the asthma, trick joints, fatigue, nerves, and I'm slightly hard of hearing in my right ear from one too many infections."

"Sounds like you're going through a lot." 

"Everybody needs a hobby." Steve coughed again, finally letting himself bring the heel of his hand up to rub the ache out of his chest. "I don't want to be a bother, ma'am. I just came in for some aspirin."

"I'll give you a mild analgesic to last over the holiday. First I need to know of any medications you're currently taking, and any allergies you have."

Steve shook his head. "I don't actually know about the medications. You'd have to ask Bucky." 

"Do I have your permission to discuss your health with him?"

"He knows what's going on as well as I do," Steve shrugged again. "Go ahead, if it'll help."

Steve's lungs were starting to loosen in the clean air of the exam room, so he sat taking deep-ish breaths until the doctor came back with Bucky in tow. Steve raised a curious brow at his lack of coat, but Bucky just grimaced and leaned his backside on the exam table, crossing his arms.

"What's up?"

"Was I taking any kind of medications before  _ yesterday?" _ Steve asked, emphasizing the past tense of the sentence so Bucky would maybe, just maybe, start making some kind of sense. 

"Nothing for the past six months."

"Allergies?"

Bucky gave him a pointed glare and started listing things off on his fingers. "Dust, mold, perfume and cologne, incense, cats, dogs, rabbits, pollen, and I'm guessing now laundry detergent and tobacco smoke. Nothing anaphylactic."

Steve rolled his eyes, Dr. Rodriguez took a very long list of notes, and Bucky studied a poster of the human digestive system on the wall. 

"Okay, that's about everything. Steve, I'd like you to make an appointment for January so we can go over everything you've mentioned, but for today I'll get you that prescription. Barbara at the desk will get that all set up for you." Dr. Rodriguez handed Steve a slip of paper and pointed him toward the reception area. "And Bucky, since you're here, I'd like to do a quick check in with you, if you have time." 

Steve thanked the doctor and quietly left Bucky to his exam, not catching the look that passed between them on his way out. 

  
  


☆

"What're these?" Steve asked when they were finally back in the truck and Bucky had scrounged up a bottle of water and a cereal bar so he could get a dose in without puking. He held up the brown glass bottle the doctor had given him against the light and gave it a shake. 

"Painkillers that won't rip holes in your stomach." Bucky flipped down a visor to shade his eyes from the sun that had finally decided to break through the clouds. 

"Do they work?"

"Maybe not as well as the stuff you're used to," Bucky snorted dryly. "But these ones won't make you sing funny songs to invisible rabbits; they'll just make the pain a little better."

"Do you…"

"Take 'em for my arm?" Bucky glanced gently at Steve from the corner of his eye. "Yeah, I take something like it."

"Sorry."

"Nah, it's alright." Bucky flexed his left fingers with a stiff smile, then he nudged Steve in the shoulder. "You up for some grocery shopping, or you want me to take you home?"

Steve tamped down the panicked feeling clawing its way up his throat at the word  _ home, _ and slapped on a bright grin. "I'm good. You promised to get bananas, right?"

"Sure did." Bucky hid both his and Steve's medications in an inner pocket of his coat and handed it to Steve to put on, giving him a stern look. "It's just until we can get yours washed."

"Okay, okay, jeez louise. I didn't say anything." 

"You were thinking about it, though," Bucky snickered, letting Steve lead the way into the store. "I could see the gears turning in your brain trying to come up with a new argument."

"Am I really that much of a pain in the ass?"

"'Fraid so."

"Jerk." 

"Punk." 

The sudden burst of warmth in Bucky's tone made Steve feel dizzy and off kilter; it wasn't that he didn't know how much Bucky cared for him, but this was… this was different. Some new depth that Steve had no memory of Bucky ever letting him see before; not that he hadn't longed for years that he would...

Steve cleared his throat and picked up the first random item he found just to keep from blushing. "Need any of this?"

"You hate fruitcake."

"So?"

"Put it in the cart."

Steve put it in the cart. Bucky rolled his eyes and they kept walking. The atmosphere of the co-op was halfway between the clinic and the warehouse; large and open, but colorful with foods of all kinds and even flowers, but also  _ people _ . Steve felt his nerves settle as he stepped around a tall, Black woman with long dreadlocks, dressed in yellows, greens and reds, stocking up on lentils and rice. He hadn't realized how much the silence and emptiness of the bleak, gray and white towns Bucky had driven through that day had unnerved him. He was used to living with a whole tenement full of people; a whole neighborhood and borough full of people, and noise, and smells, and sights, and music, and laughter, and shouting, and kids, and  _ life _ . 

Steve took a moment to breathe and take in his surroundings while Bucky perused the fruits and vegetables. "So, this is what grocery shops look like now?"

Bucky nodded, weighing out three pounds of oranges into a small cloth bag. "Pretty much. After the Snap, all of the big companies started squeezing the life out of people; overcharging for food and supplies, putting limits on how much medications got manufactured and distributed to hospitals. So people got together and started helping each other, they set up more independent co-operatives for farming, grocery stores, solar power, schools, housing, clinics. You were a big supporter of the movement; believed if everyone helped each other out they'd all have a better life."

For once, Steve wasn't surprised. "So it's not all that different from what we're doing- what we did, helping with the soup kitchen and the church clothing drive?"

"Never thought of it like that, but... yeah, not that different." Bucky's eyes went soft, and Steve had to look away to keep his heart from thumping out of his chest. He wished he knew what he kept doing to get Bucky to look at him like that, but he wasn't sure he'd survive the consequences. Bucky nudged him toward the bananas while he went to find some almonds, and Steve took the opportunity to catch his breath. 

It wasn't until they were a few aisles over that Steve finally noticed that Bucky had been standing extremely close to him all afternoon; so close that the scent of him (still clean and good, but so much more… _ more _ ) was crowding out all the thoughts in Steve's head and sending them zinging southward. In yet another aisle, when Bucky put his hand in the small of Steve's back to reach over his head for a case of macaroni and cheese, Steve nearly passed out.

By the time they had all of their food and a collection of unscented laundry products and toiletries, Steve was ready to combust. Bucky didn't even seem to notice; neither the effect he was having on Steve, nor the fact that he'd been practically cuddling up to him in public. Needless to say the journey home was both uncomfortable and silent. 

When they finally made it back to the cabin, Steve helped put the food away faster than he ever had in his life, and made a beeline for the privacy of his bedroom to take care of things before anyone saw him. 

Steve lay sprawled on his bed with a hand down his pants, trying not to breathe too loudly. He'd gotten into the habit a few years ago, just after his mother had gone into the TB ward, and Bucky had started staying over a few nights a week to get away from his folks. Steve never would have dreamed of indulging with another person in the flat, but the more he realized his feelings for his best friend were no longer strictly platonic, the harder it got to hide the effect Bucky had on him. Bucky never knew; he'd made damn sure of that, but all those nights sharing the same narrow bed…

Steve squinched his eyes shut tight and curled his toes inside his new sneakers. The familiar way Bucky had touched him at the store had lit a flame deep in his insides that he didn't know what to do with. It didn't help that Bucky was incredibly attractive, even more so now than he had been when he was Steve's age.

_ Holy smoke was he ever. _

Eventually, after several agonizing minutes contemplation of the seven's times tables, Steve managed to get himself under control and scrub the blush from his cheeks. If Bucky kept up with the warm voice and the soft touches, he was tempted to bunk out in the garage for the rest of the week...

  
  


☆

Dinner was an awkward affair, but Steve did everything in his power to smile and laugh, and avoid meeting Bucky's eyes at all costs. 

After they'd tidied up, Bucky tugged at his sleeve and told him to grab his laundry so they could get it washed. Steve's heart was pounding at the prospect of being alone with Bucky again, but at the same time he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity. 

To his credit, Bucky was very helpful showing him how to work the washing machine, even going so far as to sit on the lid so the whole load would fit. This, unfortunately, gave Steve a perfect goddamn view of Bucky's crotch. Bucky must have finally caught him sneaking a peek because he gave him a mighty pleased grin.

"Enjoying the show?"

Steve's face ignited. 

"Uh," he coughed, looking for somewhere, anywhere to put his eyes other than Bucky's… anything. His heart jackhammering behind his ribs was not helping him feel any less lightheaded. "I, uh… g-guess so?"

"You guess-" Bucky's eyes widened for a second, then his expression started to fall in slow motion. Steve had a pretty good idea why, but it still hurt the way Bucky's voice went sad and quiet when he spoke to him again. "How old are you, Steve?" 

"Eighteen." Steve swallowed, dropping his head to pick at a speck of imaginary dirt under his thumbnail. "I'm not a kid, Buck."

"I know you're not, but," Bucky ran a hand through his hair and blew out a shaky sigh, "I don't want you to get hurt."

"You won't hurt me." Steve locked his eyes firmly on Bucky's. "You'd never hurt me. Never."

"I have, lots of times," Bucky's voice cracked quietly, "but not like that."

"Did we…" Steve took a deep breath, "when I was older, did you… like me… that way?"

"God, Steve, I  _ loved _ you." Bucky's eyes were already filling with tears. Something about seeing Bucky cry had always felt like a knife twisting in Steve's gut; the only difference now was that he felt like busting into tears himself. "I've always loved you. Ever since we were kids. I should've told you sooner, but I didn't want you to-"

"-to get hurt." Steve clenched his jaw and blinked wetly up at the ceiling.  _ God, what a pair of idiots. _ "I didn't want you to have to deal with another one of my problems." 

"It wouldn't have been, not to me."

_ What about now? _ Steve wanted to ask; was it too late for him to have Bucky the way he wanted? The way Bucky'd had him for years and he'd never known it? Instead of taking the chance of having Bucky tell him he was too young, he decided to let nature take its course. With his heart still racing, Steve stepped closer to the washer and settled himself between Bucky's knees. His eyes never left Bucky's once as he lifted himself up on his toes to give Bucky his very first kiss. 

"Stevie," Bucky's whisper was warm on Steve's lips, but he didn't push him away, didn't tell him to stop. Steve didn't stop; he had no idea what he was doing, but he knew that whatever was happening, he wanted it to. Bucky pressed a small kiss to Steve's forehead, then he held him at arm's length, stroking Steve's jaw with his thumbs. "You sure you want this?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Steve reached up to press one cold hand to Bucky's scruffy cheek. Underneath all the layers of all the years he'd missed, his Bucky was still in there needing ten kinds of reassurance before taking one tiny step. "I'm sure, Buck. Please."

"Okay."

Steve stepped back to give Bucky some space when he slid off the washer to switch the laundry. Steve could tell Bucky was just as nervous as he was, which made him feel a lot better about being so inexperienced. His stomach was filling with butterflies imagining how much Bucky must know by now about… whatever they'd been doing.

Steve pushed that thought away quickly as Bucky finished loading the dryer and turned back to face him. "Should be done in about an hour." Bucky grabbed a spare wool dryer ball to fiddle with that had come half unraveled from Steve picking at it for the last thirty minutes. 

Steve blushed hard and looked away, prompting Bucky to shove the dryer ball back into a pile of laundry and his hands in his pockets. He was about to say something when Steve finally plucked up his courage and blurted, "Can I touch your arm?"

"Uh," Bucky blinked a couple of times, momentarily taken aback, "sure, if you want to."

"I just mean," Steve waved his hands vaguely, "later, when we, you know. I thought I'd ask first. In case you didn't want me to."

Steve wondered what exactly Bucky found so appealing in an awkward toothpick like him, but he figured it must be something pretty darn good; the way Bucky was looking at him was so fond Steve wanted to melt right through the floor. 

"You can touch it anytime you want." Bucky murmured, stepping back into Steve's space, so close and overwhelmingly warm. "You were the first person I showed it to, after I got it."

"I was?" Steve's tongue slipped out to wet his lips; he couldn't help flicking his eyes to Bucky's lips at the same time. They were so pink and soft… "What'd I say?"

"Uh," Bucky coughed and turned bright red, "you wanted me to use it on you the next time we had sex." Seeing Steve's eyes light up, Bucky snorted and gently tugged his ear. "Not in the laundry room, Steven."

"Spoil sport."

"Pervert."

"Cradle robber."

"Jailbait."

"When?" Steve breathed out in a rush of barely contained arousal, his cheeks flush and pupils dilating wide against a sea of dark blue. "When, Buck?"

Bucky licked his own lips. Against his better judgment, he let all of the simmering desire he'd been suppressing the past few days take over. Sliding his metal hand slowly down Steve's spine, he gave his ass a gentle squeeze while he whispered low in his ear.

"Tonight. I'll come to you."

  
  


☆

Bucky was a nervous wreck. 

He'd spent the last two hours trying not to think about the fact that he was going to fuck Steve, and really not being able to think about anything else. It wasn't like they'd never had sex before; even before the Snap they'd been hooking up every time Steve came to Wakanda for supplies. Once things had gotten back to normal after the reverse-Snap, they'd practically lived in each other's pants. 

Bucky groaned quietly and scrubbed his hands down his face, pacing his bedroom rug for what felt like the ten thousandth time. The thing was, he knew he couldn't break Steve when he was older. They both had strength and stamina to match their desires, and no need to hold back when one of them wanted it rough. Steve was different after the Snap; harder, more brooding, openly asking for pain and taking it all in stony silence.

Now he was… 

Bucky stopped pacing to let the reality check he'd been avoiding since Steve's final mission really sink in. 

Steve wasn't the same anymore, never would be again. He was still tough as nails, but also incredibly gentle. He was still broody, but he had a wide-eyed appreciation for life that hadn't been affected by endless war and suffering yet. Steve wasn't naive, but he wasn't as damaged and broken as Bucky was.

And Bucky guessed that was what scared him. That Steve was so trusting of him, of the kid he used to be, that he'd let Bucky hurt him before he'd speak up for himself. Then again, when had Steve ever  _ not _ been a self-sacrificing punk?

The fact that they were twenty-one years apart wasn't helping Bucky's conscience, either. In the whole scope of how the world worked now, hardly anyone would bat an eye at an age difference that wide, but Bucky was old enough to remember how miserable his mother had been in the same situation. The last thing he wanted was for Steve to regret wasting his time on an old man with a metal arm and half his brain missing from seventy years of torture.

Well, shit… that was gonna be a fun conversation. 

Glancing at his alarm clock, Bucky realized he'd have to get going if he didn't want Steve thinking he'd chickened out, or worse, that he didn't really want to spend time with him. Pushing down as many inhibitions as he could find space for in his mental baggage, Bucky slipped silently out of his room and across the hall to Steve's, quietly rapping his gloved knuckles on the door. Some small part of him wondered if Steve had changed his mind and didn't want him around after all...

Steve's flushed cheeks and hopeful grin when he opened the door told Bucky all he needed to know. 

"Hey," Steve whispered breathlessly, stepping out of the way to let Bucky in. He'd been doing a fair bit of pacing of his own while he'd been waiting; eventually he'd had to sit down to catch his breath, but he'd leapt for the door as soon as he heard Bucky's knock. Now he stood by the end of his bed scrunching his socked toes into the rug, waiting for Bucky to make the first move. 

"Hey yourself," Bucky chuckled, making sure Steve's door was securely closed behind him before crossing to sit on the edge of the bed. "We've got a couple things to go over."

Steve leaned on the end of the bed, lacing his fingers over the bedpost. "Okay." 

"First: you have to tell me if anything hurts. I'm a hell of a lot stronger than you, and I can't always tell when I'm holding something too tight. Last week I put a dent in a cast iron skillet with my good hand and didn't even feel it."

Bucky waited for Steve to nod his agreement before he went on. 

"Second: if I blank out, or don't seem to be aware of my surroundings, I want you to stop whatever we're doing and take care of yourself. Clean up, put your clothes on, ask Pepper to call someone at the Compound for help. You weren't there when I got messed up, I don't want you trying to take care of me now. You gotta promise me, Steve. I mean it."

"I promise." Steve nodded quietly. He'd promise Bucky anything he wanted, it just made him miserable knowing he'd missed an entire piece of Bucky's life. He also felt intensely angry at his future self for not having done all he could to keep Bucky safe. 

"Alright." The tension in Bucky's shoulders finally loosened and his lips quirked upwards in a boyish smile. "So, what do you wanna do?"

"Oh. Um," Steve blushed and readjusted his position behind the bedpost. "Whatever you want to. I don't really know how to do anything but necking."

"Necking sounds good to me."

Steve glanced up through his eyelashes to see if Bucky was teasing him, but only found an easy smile. Bucky hadn't even taken off his glove or his sweater yet, even though the room wasn't all that cold. Letting out a small breath, Steve sank down on the bed so his left thigh was touching Bucky's right all the way from hip to knee. That all by itself was pretty damn thrilling.

"Good?" 

"Good." 

Steve leaned his head on Bucky's shoulder so Bucky could wrap his arms around him more comfortably. Nestled into Bucky's chest Steve felt enveloped in a way he hadn't realized he'd been missing; the feeling of contentment it gave him was better than anything else in the world. Bucky seemed to be enjoying it, too; his heart, which had been beating rapidly when Steve had first leaned against his chest, had slowed to a steady thump, thump, thump.

"Really good." Steve sighed and pressed a kiss to Bucky's collarbone, making Bucky give him a little squeeze and kiss his forehead. Steve wrinkled his nose and picked at a loose thread on Bucky's sweater. "If you're gonna keep kissing me like your grandma, I'm going back to bed."

"Watch who you're calling grandma, sonny." Bucky took a chance that Steve might still like things a little rough, and hoisted him into his lap in one swift movement that had Steve gasping and clinging to his shoulders. "That more to your liking, punk?"

"Holy cow."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Definitely yeah."

Steve's eyes were darkening rapidly; Bucky could feel an erection starting to swell against his abs where Steve was straddling him. Steve tried to shift away as soon as he noticed, but Bucky closed his arms behind Steve's back in a loose loop he could break easily if he wanted to. "You can stay if you want."

"It is kind of cozy up here." Steve took a second to find his equilibrium and catch his breath; he had to adjust his eyes to having so much of Bucky to look at all at once, too. This close he could see thick lines crinkling at the corners of Bucky's eyes, the tanned, weather-worn complexion of his forehead and cheeks, silver hairs like shooting stars scattered through his beard and temples. 

"My God, you're beautiful."

Seeing Bucky blush up close was a sight Steve would never forget as long as he lived. 

"So are you." Bucky let his eyes take in every detail of Steve's face all over again, the way he had all those years ago when he was just starting to realize he was falling in love; the way he had the last time... "I've never seen anyone with eyes as blue as yours. They're a little bit green, too, just like your ma's."

Steve shook his head. "Come on, Buck, I'm nothing special."

"You're everything special." Bucky brushed a feather-light kiss against the frown lines between Steve's eyebrows,  _ "everything," _ his nose,  _ "about," _ chin,  _ "you," _ lips,  _ "is special." _

It wasn't often that Steve was showered in such overwhelming compliments; he'd never had been, really. Bucky being the first made the experience all the more sweet. 

"Thanks, Buck." Steve heaved a small sigh and wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. He wasn't sure how he'd been expecting Bucky to treat him; like a punk, he guessed. Being told he was beautiful and special kind of made him feel funny, like he couldn't quite believe it was true. He trusted Bucky, though, even if he couldn't trust himself. 

Leaning forward, he closed his eyes and let his lips explore Bucky's cheeks. He'd never kissed another man before, let alone one with a beard. The prickle of rough hairs on his oversensitive mouth was getting him hard again. He pressed himself closer to Bucky's body experimentally, moving his hips just enough to see if he could get some friction. 

Bucky's dick swelled and shifted in response.  _ Right under his ass. _

"Oh, God, um," Steve choked a little on a mouthful of spit. He hadn't really thought… he  _ knew _ , sort of… but. 

Bucky had let go of his waist the instant Steve had jerked in his arms. Now he sat perfectly still waiting for Steve to decide what he wanted. He wasn't sure how much Steve really knew about sex, but he was guessing it wasn't a whole hell of a lot. 

"You okay?"

"Um, yeah, I'm. Yeah." Steve gingerly scooted back a few inches so he wasn't sitting directly on the rock-solid bulge in Bucky's jeans.  _ Fuck, it was big.  _ "Guess I'm not too great at this."

"It's your first time, don't hafta be an expert." Bucky suppressed a shiver at the thought of being Steve's first partner. He'd wished he could be, back in the day, but he'd never dreamed it would actually happen. No way in hell had he imagined he'd be old enough to be Steve's father when it did. 

"What's that look for?" Steve asked, scowling. His pants were chafing and he was irritated at himself for getting spooked. Now Bucky was looking like he'd just eaten a lemon. What else could go wrong?

"Nothing." Bucky shook his head, "I just... want to make sure you really want this. With me. I've got problems I hope you never have to deal with. I'm older than you by more than twenty years. This could end up going south so badly, and I just-"

"Bucky." Steve laced the fingers of his right hand with Bucky's left and brought both up between their chests where Bucky could see them. "This is my choice. Now shut up and kiss me, jerk."

Bucky didn't let his doubts take over twice. 

Still clutching Steve's hand to his chest, he dragged him closer with the other, kissing him hard until they were both gasping for air. Steve braced himself on Bucky's broad shoulder to catch his breath; his hair was a mess and he was starting to sweat. He wanted Bucky to touch him all over, but he didn't know how. He wanted to touch Bucky but he didn't know where to start. Mostly he just wanted to keep kissing until he exploded from feeling too much. 

Seeing Steve's face starting to flush with frustration, Bucky planted a kiss on the end of his nose and shifted them both higher on the bed. 

"What're you doing?" 

"Something fun." Bucky grabbed one of Steve's pillows to rest his neck on, and lifted Steve up so he was straddling Bucky's waist. "You ever rubbed off through your clothes?"

Steve blushed but held his head high, determined to conquer his nerves if it was the last thing he ever did. "Once or twice."

"Good," Bucky grinned, digging his thumbs gently into Steve's sides, "then you already know what to do." 

"Where?"

"Anywhere you want."

Steve blew his bangs out of his eyes and squared his shoulders. Keeping his eyes on Bucky's face to make sure he wasn't doing anything wrong, Steve leaned forward, braced his hands on Bucky's chest and started rubbing on Bucky's stomach. 

"That's it, pal. You've got it." Bucky was practically beaming. His hands wrapped snugly around Steve's narrow waist, keeping him steady. When Steve's hips began to stutter, and his breath started coming in shorter gasps, Bucky squeezed him to let him know it was alright to let go. 

_ "Oh, f-fuck," _ Steve's voice was barely a whisper, but to Bucky it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. Steve's body shuddered for a while afterward as he lay on Bucky's chest waiting for his heart to slow to a normal pace. Bucky held him close, running his fingers through Steve's sweaty hair and pressing soft kisses to the crown of his head. 

"That's what it's all about?" Steve asked finally, when he felt he could breathe and speak at the same time. The way everybody talked about sex, he'd expected some kind of divine revelation, or an angelic choir, or something. In the end it wasn't any different than what he did by himself in the bathroom at night. 

Bucky's thumb rubbed at the lines between Steve's eyes, always trying to get him to quit frowning. "That's about it."

"Huh."

"Disappointed?"

"No," Steve shook his head, resting his chin on Bucky's chest so he could look at his face again. "I like doing it with you."

"Same here, pal." Bucky smiled and gave Steve a fond squeeze around the waist. He'd forgotten that he was still hard, but Steve hadn't; propping himself up on his elbows, Steve glanced back over his shoulder.

"You didn't get anything out of it."

"Sure I did. I got to watch you. That was some pretty steamy stuff you were doing there, Romeo."

"Har har." Steve rolled his eyes, chewing his lip thoughtfully. "You want me to do it again?"

"Think you've got another one in you?"

"Not really."

"Then don't worry about it." Bucky planted a kiss on Steve's mouth before he could start digging for arguments. By some miracle it worked; Steve let himself be escorted to the bathroom without a single complaint, and even accepted a chaste goodnight kiss on the cheek. 

Bucky stood just inside his bedroom door until he heard Steve's close quietly a few minutes later. Even after the house was silent he kept his forehead pressed to the door, breathing heavily into the darkness. He couldn't bring himself to face an empty bed, not after he'd spent every night for the last six months sleeping with Steve's head pillowed on his chest, Steve's knees in his back, and Steve's arms death-gripping him in the middle of nightmares he'd never talk about.

Bucky let his mind go blank as he tossed away his glove and unbuttoned his fly. In the days before Steve, he'd been proficient in tending to his own needs as they came up. Under an army blanket, in a dark cell, brief moments snatched on missions between cryofreeze and mind wipes. The metal hand had been a comfort he'd learned to embrace; a tool for a job with no emotions attached. 

So far he hadn't needed to use the vibranium hand for that purpose, except on Steve, with Steve, for Steve. Christening it now felt like a funeral; saying goodbye to the life he'd only begun to build. Saying goodbye to Steve as if he was dead and gone instead of sleeping peacefully in the next room.

Bucky shook his head hard and shoved his left hand into his back pocket. He loved Steve; big, small, stubborn, hurting, broken, whole, in sickness and in health as long as they both kept breathing. He'd just gotten to be Steve's first time for God's sake! Steve,  _ his Steve _ , who'd been so nervous but kept on going because he didn't know the meaning of giving up. Goddamn, what an amazing thing to be alive to see.

Bucky's right hand shook as he wrapped it tightly around his dick. He'd never gotten a chance to take Steve on a date, to kiss him goodnight, or even hold his hand. The first time they'd fucked, that's all it had been; rough, desperate, too much emotion to fit into too little time. Neither of them really knew what they were doing, and they hadn't cared about pain. Eventually they'd figured things out, but the intensity never faded. The last six months Steve had been bordering on masochistic; looking back, Bucky supposed that wasn't too far from the truth.

Thinking about the last time they'd fucked, the night before his last mission; Steve kneeling naked on the spartan linoleum floor of their bedroom, knees and knuckles bloody and bruised from all the work he'd done on the Compound that day; Bucky had wanted nothing more than to hold him and cry. Steve blamed himself for so many things; so many things he had no control over, so many things that weren't his responsibility. Sometimes Bucky honestly wondered if Steve hated himself for everything he felt guilty of. 

He remembered telling Steve once that sometimes he thought Steve liked getting punched. Only now he realized... Steve never said no.

No… no.

Bucky's right hand loosened to the barest touch and the left slipped up to steady himself on the frame of the door. He was done punishing himself. Done helping Steve punish himself. He wanted a new life, a  _ good _ life. He wanted to give Steve a good life. As much as he loved every single incarnation of Steve with his entire being, he didn't miss the one who'd chosen to leave him behind. 

"I hope you found what you were looking for, pal," Bucky whispered as he came in his hand with the gentle caresses he'd always wanted from a lover. Someday, maybe, if he was lucky, Steve would touch him that way, too.

☆


	3. Tuesday, December 19th

The date had been a spur of the moment idea Tony'd had that morning; just a quiet day of lunch and Christmas shopping without having to think about anything that had happened. Pepper had agreed right away, desperate to get her life back to normal as quickly as possible. Morgan didn't want them to go, but Bucky had promised to babysit, so that made everything not quite so bad.

Morgan held on tight to Bucky's neck as she waved goodbye to Mommy and Daddy's car. She wanted to cry really, really bad, but she didn't want Mommy to feel sad and have to take another nap. 

"It's okay, sis," Bucky said as he closed the kitchen door and carried her over to the fridge for a snack. "We're gonna have lots of fun today so you can tell your mom and dad all about it when they get back." 

"Wanna juice pop."

Bucky nodded and opened the freezer, "Why don't you pick three, then me and Stevie can have one with you."

Morgan pointed to the last three red ones in the box. Daddy liked the red ones best, but then he died and couldn't have them anymore. Bucky let her wedge the popsicle sticks between his fingers so they wouldn't melt, and carried her back to the living room where Steve was looking at a coloring book. 

"Juice pop." Morgan waved one at Steve until he took it, then she sat down and opened her own book. The pictures were all puppies; puppies in hats, puppies on the swings, puppies in the rain, puppies sick in bed. There weren't any puppies dying or being alive again. Picking a crayon that matched her popsicle, Morgan started coloring one with a puppy laying on a picnic blanket in the grass.

"Mommy said he wasn't coming back."

Bucky picked a gray crayon and took a bite out of his juice pop. "How's that make you feel?"

"Dunno." 

Bucky nodded, flipping through another coloring book until he found a picture of kitten flying a kite. "Usually when people die they don't come back. Sometimes they do."

"Why?"

"Different reasons." Bucky shrugged, chewing on his popsicle some more. "Everybody thought I was dead for a long time, but I was just sleeping."

Steve coughed a little and glanced up, but he didn't ask Bucky to elaborate. He'd chosen to color a frog in the sunshine, its face turned upward to the light and warmth. Bucky's kitten had come to life with soft, chocolatey brown fur on three of its four limbs, while the left forepaw was a silvery gray. 

Morgan dropped her popsicle stick into the empty glass Bucky had brought with them, and switched out her red crayon for a light brown one. "Is Mommy gonna die, too?" 

Bucky hummed thoughtfully, carefully sucking the last of the flavor from his stick before putting it in the glass. "I don't think so. Your Mommy's pretty sick, but her doctors are taking really good care of her and trying to help her get better."

Steve's fingers tightened on his pale green crayon until they turned white. The sunshine didn't look all that inviting anymore.

"What's she have?"

"Some kind of chronic pain." Bucky's socked foot wound around the back of Steve's ankle, rubbing comfortingly at his heel. "They're not sure yet what's causing it."

"She takes a lot of naps." Morgan piped up, adding dashes of blinding yellow to her disturbingly red dog. 

"Naps are a good thing." Steve nodded, swallowing down the gravel in his throat and choosing a pleasant buttercream for his sun. "Your body does a lot of healing when you sleep."

Bucky huffed quietly through his nose and picked up another crayon, and Steve looked over to see how he was doing. The cat was finished, its muzzle filled in completely black below its watery gray eyes. The kite string was a deep, blood red, while the kite itself was a shade of achingly familiar cobalt. 

Steve finished the last of his popsicle, wondering if his own picture was as consciously (or unconsciously) symbolic as the others. Morgan picked up one last pink crayon, and held it poised over the page like a miniature dagger. She scribbled over the red dog a few times, then she closed the book without a second thought. 

Bucky tore his page out and folded it, slipping it into his hip pocket as he stood up. "All done with your juice pops?"

"Yep."

"Then let's go get those sticky little hands washed." 

Steve watched them go from the corner of his eye as he chose the last color for his own picture, and drew one tiny blue forget-me-not in the lower right corner of the pond. 

"Stevie! We're gonna make popcorn!"

"I'll be right there!"

Tidying up the coloring supplies and books, Steve slipped his picture into his own breast pocket for safekeeping and headed out to the kitchen. "I heard somebody say popcorn."

"Me!" Morgan bounced around the kitchen until Bucky had the corn in a pot and turned on the stove. "We're gonna make decorations."

"Popcorn strings?" Steve felt his heart lift a little just thinking about it. "We just made- we used to make those with your sisters."

"You have sisters?" Morgan plunked down on the floor and wrapped herself around Bucky's leg, gazing up at him like that was the most fascinating piece of information she'd ever heard. "Mommy and Daddy don't have sisters."

"I have  _ three _ sisters." Bucky grinned, shaking the pot as the first pieces of corn started pinging around inside. "Rebecca, Maisy, and- and-"

Steve saw Bucky's eyes widen with something like panic, so he quickly stepped in and took over storytelling. "-and Millie. Millie and Maisy are twins."

"Wow." Morgan held on tight while Bucky walked around the kitchen collecting a big bowl for the popcorn and rummaged around for a pair of scissors. 

"Hey, sis, you know where Mommy hides a blue tin with cookies on it?"

"In the closet?"

"That's the one. Think you can go get it for me?"

"Okay!"

Steve gave Bucky a knowing smirk and snorted. "Sewing kit?"

"Yup."

"Found it!"

Bucky caught the tin as Morgan came skidding back and slammed into his knees. "Great job! Let's let Steve pick what he needs out of there and you can go put your coloring things away."

Morgan ran off again, singing  _ Jingle Bells _ at the top of her lungs. Steve shook his head wonderingly, prying the lid off the tin with his fingernails. "Guess she feels okay now."

"Give the sugar a few minutes to wear off." Bucky dumped the finished popcorn into a big plastic bowl and blew on it a little to cool it. "We go through a lot of feelings every day. Craft projects really help her work through stuff."

"That's… that's good. Having projects." Steve hovered quietly by the table for a moment, listening to Morgan's high, off-key singing. He knew his own emotions had been on a rollercoaster since his ma passed a few months after his eighteenth birthday; he couldn't imagine dealing with the death, and return, of a parent as a little kid.

"How old is she?"

"Four and a half." Bucky smiled sadly, "She doesn't know about the Snap yet. Pepper said they were planning to start kindergarten next year; I don't think the poor kid even has any friends."

"I'm sorry." Steve swallowed again, pasting a smile on his face as Morgan ran back in, finally starting to slow down a little from her sugar rush. "Got your books put away?"

"Yeah. Can we listen to music?"

"Sure." Bucky handed Morgan a freshly topped up bottle of water and waited for her to drink some. "You want the songs on your tablet or something else?"

"Mmmm, you pick."

"Okay. Let's get you settled." Bucky nodded for Steve to lead the way, grabbing a small radio from the top of the refrigerator and setting it on a bookshelf where it could get some decent reception. "You want Christmas or classical?"

"Christmas!" 

Steve could almost smell warm dust as Bucky flipped a switch and a burst of static filled the room. He twiddled a knob for a moment to find the station he wanted, and adjusted the volume to more of a background noise. Bucky smiled softly as Bing Crosby's velvet pipes started crooning  _ Oh Little Town of Bethlehem _ . The look Steve gave Bucky when he sat down and tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth was frankly besotted.

"Thank you."

"Anytime, pal." Bucky grinned wide, his eyes sparkling at the carnation pink rising on Steve's cheeks. "Got a needle?" 

"Hm? Oh, needle, yeah." Steve handed Bucky the needle case, and looked through the tin for some strong thread. "How long do you want 'em?"

"'Bout a yard."

Steve measured a length from his extended hand to his chest and bit off the thread with his teeth. "There you go. Morgan, you want a small one?"

"Yes, please."

Steve bit off a shorter length of thread and tied a sturdy knot in the end, then he slipped the other through the eye of a blunt needle. "There you go, sis. Just poke the needle through the middle of the popcorn and slide it down."

"Thanks!"

"You're very welcome!" Steve couldn't help grinning. Morgan was a sweet kid; she reminded him a lot of Rebecca, when she was little. For a moment he could almost imagine he was in the Barnes's parlor with Bucky and his sisters, listening to the radio and stringing popcorn like they did every Christmas...

The radio changed to a song Steve didn't recognize and the illusion was gone. Bucky rubbed his foot again like he'd been thinking the same thing and handed him a piece of corn. 

"Why's Stevie little now? Did he die?"

Bucky felt Steve jump beside him at Morgan's question, and he pressed his foot down on Steve's toes to keep him still. "No, honey, Steve didn't die. He got hurt and went into a machine that made him all better. That's why he's smaller."

Bucky's silent apology crackled and buzzed like a broken radio under Steve's skin. He felt like his lungs were burning; he could hear the rush of freezing water filling his ears and nose and mouth-

"Let's get a glass of water, Steve. Come on."

Steve felt his body leave the ground for a moment, then he was being squeezed hard to Bucky's chest and being told to breathe. The two opposing sensations were enough to snap him out of his trance, and he sucked in a lungful of air. "No water! No… no water."

"I'm so sorry, honey. I'm so sorry."

"What happened to me?" Steve pushed himself away from Bucky's chest, but he couldn't make himself let go. He dug his fingers bloodlessly into Bucky's sweater, gripping so hard his knuckles popped. "What didn't you tell me?"

Bucky swallowed thickly; Steve could see his eyes were already misting up. "I didn't lie. There's just so much… you've lost over eighty years, Steve; it's gonna take a hell of a long time to catch up."

Eighty… years.

"I don't know if I can do this." Steve's legs felt shaky and his stomach was churning as badly as his head. He wished more than anything that Bucky would drag him upstairs and kiss him to make him forget that everything had changed. 

"You don't have to. We'll figure it out together." Bucky's gentle kiss to his forehead wasn't exactly what Steve wanted, but he still leaned into it gratefully and accepted another tight hug. Bucky stepped back a little and slung an arm around his shoulders, steering him back towards the living room before Morgan could get too curious. Just before they crossed the threshold, Bucky pressed his lips to the soft hairs at Steve's temple, whispering a promise as sweet as it was solemn that sent shivers down Steve's spine. 

"I'm with you to the end of the line, baby."

  
  


☆

Steve had already decided that sex was as good a distraction as any from whatever the hell his memory, or maybe it was only his mind, was doing lately. Especially now that he had Bucky's nightly visits to look forward to. Popping a catch in his left knee, Steve stretched a cramp out of his leg and waited for the sounds of the household to die down for the night. 

_ Tap, tap, tap.  _

Bucky's expression of surprise when he opened the door by the third knock went straight to Steve's dick, or close enough to it that he hurried to shut the door behind Bucky and kiss him for five minutes before they even made it to the bed. 

Like the previous night, Bucky kept his glove and warm layers on. Steve didn't mind at all; whatever made Bucky comfortable was more important to him than anything, even if it meant he'd never get to see Bucky's skin below the collar of his crew neck. 

Steve tried not to pass out when Bucky lifted him into his lap again; he really had a thing for being manhandled.  _ Like how. _ His dick seemed to agree; slowly rising to press against Bucky's stomach as he leaned in for another kiss. 

"Hiya, gramps."

"What's cooking, baby?"

"You are." Steve mouthed messily at Bucky's cheek until Bucky gave in and squeezed him hard around the waist. The pressure was almost painful, but Steve wasn't about to tell Bucky that. "I'm ready for round two if you wanna rub off on me this time."

"Get a load of this guy." Bucky's chuckle and cheesy gangster accent were spoiling the mood a little, but he looked blissfully happy. "Here I am, ready to show him a real swell time, and all he asks is for me to rub off on him."

Steve tried to cram as much silver-screen sex appeal into his expression as possible while struggling not to crack up. "Oh yeah? Whadya have in mind, sugar?"

Bucky leaned in close to Steve's ear, letting his hands slip down to squeeze his asscheeks like he was testing the firmness of a piece of ripe fruit. "How 'bout I suck your dick?"

Steve felt his head spin at the suggestion. Scooting further into Bucky's lap, he felt the beginning of an erection nudging under his ass. "What about you?"

"What'd make you happy?" 

"I…" Steve grasped helplessly at the words for a few moments, but he couldn't find any that could answer the question. "I don't know. I just want you to be happy, I guess."

"Then let me take care of you." Bucky's tone dropped in a way that Steve knew he wasn't playing anymore. "Please, Steve."

Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Bucky's forehead before he shifted in Bucky's lap again to keep him out of his head. 

"Okay, honey. But you gotta show me how."

"Easy as pie, dollface."

Bucky let go of Steve's ass, lifting him back onto his feet next to the bed so he could check his pocket for something. "Ever used a rubber?"

"What do you think?"

"I'll take that as a no." Bucky ignored Steve's scowl, getting up to crowd Steve against the sturdiest piece of furniture in the room that wasn't on a shared wall. Kissing him long and hard, Bucky dropped to his knees in front of him, gazing up in naked adoration. 

Steve couldn't trust his eyes; couldn't believe that Bucky was actually on his knees for him. He'd expected Bucky to suck him off quickly on the bed so they could move on to better things. Not to have Bucky kneeling at his feet like he was about to take the Holy Eucharist.

"Bucky… you don't. I mean…"

"Let me." Bucky whispered hoarsely, "please let me."

Steve could only nod and trust that Bucky knew what he wanted. When Bucky pressed his nose to Steve's clothed crotch, he felt his dick twitch in response. "Oh, Christ."

"Good?"

"Yeah, Buck, it's good."

Steve blew out a breath that ruffled his bangs and sucked in another to keep his head as clear as it was going to get. Bucky was still nosing at him, and tugging at the buttonhole of his jeans  _ with his teeth. _ Steve let out an undignified whine. Bucky only smiled. 

"May I?" Bucky asked, poking his tongue out to lick Steve's metal button, dipping the tip into the hollow center and running it around the raised edges. Steve nodded. Bucky tugged. He didn't tell Steve how he'd learned to undo buttons with no working hands. 

He let Steve pull down his own zipper, diving back in as soon as Steve's fingers were clear. His soft, gray underwear was warm with body heat and the light musky scent of his arousal. Bucky inhaled deeply. Steve cleared his throat, making Bucky look up in time to see him blush high on his cheeks and bite his lip. 

"What do you need, Stevie?"

"Nothing. Just can't imagine why you'd wanna do that."

"Because I love you." Bucky sat back on his feet, hugging his arms around Steve's calves gently. "Because I love making love to you. Because I love seeing you feel good. Because I love that I can help you feel good."

"Did…" Steve held his breath; he still couldn't believe that Bucky'd said he  _ loved _ him. "Did I ever get used to it?" 

"Not really." Bucky shook his head, thinking of all the times Steve had blushed and pushed him away for being soft, only to pull him back into a bruising kiss that ended with Steve getting fucked into the floor. "But I never stopped trying."

Steve took another shaky breath. He didn't feel comfortable with being worshiped, or whatever Bucky was doing, but he knew it was something he could let Bucky have that obviously made him happy. No, not happy; Bucky looked peaceful in a way Steve had never seen anyone look before; like his mind was somewhere safe and warm away from everything else. 

Looking down into Bucky's eyes, Steve felt something settle into place. 

"Okay, honey," he said, brushing a thumb across tanned and freckled skin, across silver hairs and wrinkles and hurt and time. "Okay."

"Thank you." Bucky breathed out a sigh, pressing a kiss to Steve's palm and letting his eyes drift closed.

Steve let his hands find their way into Bucky's thick hair while Bucky pressed the end of his nose to Steve's erection. "Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"Ah, God…" Steve groaned and tightened his fingers; Bucky's shoulders loosened even more. Barely touching Steve's dick, he let his head drop a little, drawing his nose slowly up the underside from base to just under the tip. Steve's knees gave out and he dropped heavily into Bucky's arms, gasping. "Shit! Sorry, sorry."

"You okay?" Bucky's voice was quiet with concern. He hadn't realized Steve was so sensitive; if his heart didn't slow down in a few minutes, Bucky was calling things off for the night.

"I'm fine." Steve drew a deep breath and leaned back for a minute to steady himself. He'd almost left his body on that one. Bucky was amazing. Sex with Bucky was amazing. Steve felt amazing. He wanted to keep going as long as his body would let him before it gave out. Clamping his hand on Bucky's shoulders, he steeled himself for whatever was coming next. "Okay, I'm ready." 

Bucky snickered and sat back on his feet, eyeing the rapidly spreading damp spot in Steve's drawers with smug satisfaction. "We're gonna have a safety lesson first."

Steve narrowed his eyes accusingly. "You did that on purpose."

"You're right, I did," Bucky nodded, finally pulling a condom from his back pocket. "It's easier to put on a prophylactic when you're already standing to attention." 

Steve's cheeks heated slightly, but he nodded. He wished he wasn't so wet behind the ears that he knew how to put on his own damn rubber. Bucky didn't seem to think he was stupid, though; he was still looking at Steve like he was the best thing that'd ever happened to him. 

"May I?" Bucky's eyes shone with hope. Steve realized that Bucky was asking to touch him,  _ really touch him, _ for the first time. The realization that no matter how many times he'd had sex with older Steve, Bucky was making sure  _ his _ first time was something special made Steve's stomach fill with butterflies and his heart squeeze. Splaying his hands flat against the dresser behind him, Steve watched Bucky carefully hook his fingers in the waistband of Steve's jeans, sliding them down his thighs just far enough to not make him feel too exposed. 

Steve exhaled shakily; Bucky waited until he could nod. 

Steve's skin crawled a little from the contrast between warm skin and cool air as Bucky tore open the prophylactic and rolled it onto him. The gesture was intimate in a way Steve hadn't been expecting; Bucky's expression of concentration, his fingers only brushing where absolutely necessary, the respectful step back when he was done so Steve could adjust to the new sensation.

Steve never thought he could have loved Bucky more than he always had, but he did...

"Good?"

"It's a little big." Steve grinned self-deprecatingly, tugging the stretchy material to make it fit a bit better. "Is it okay?"

"Perfect." Bucky smiled, and Steve knew he wasn't talking about the rubber. 

"What happens now?"

"Now," Bucky said, bringing his hands up to gently cradle Steve's hips without ever taking his adoring gaze from Steve's face, "you let me take care of you." 

Steve held his breath and nodded. 

The feeling of Bucky's tongue was unlike anything he'd ever imagined; warm, soft, too much, and not enough, stroking him in wide licks and the slightest touches. He tried to pay careful attention to Bucky's technique, but the moment Bucky's mouth closed around him he lost all sense of purpose other than staying upright. 

Steve clapped a hand over his mouth so he wouldn't cry out from the overstimulation; his eyes were already streaming and he felt like he was going to pass out. He was glad Bucky was holding him up against the dresser, because his knees sure as hell weren't doing the job.

Bucky pulled off wetly, a string of saliva draped between his beautiful swollen lips and the rubber covering Steve's throbbing dick. Steve's chest heaved and he closed his eyes tightly; he wanted to come, but he wanted to last longer than a few seconds so Bucky would suck him off forever. Bucky made the decision for him when he pressed the tip of his tongue to Steve's dick for the briefest second before taking him down in a single mouthful. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Bucky, fuck."

Steve's heart was hammering, but he let himself glance down; at Bucky's nose buried in his sparse curling hair, at Bucky's lips mouthing at him like he was something precious, at Bucky's eyes closed in ecstatic bliss. The tip of his dick met the back of Bucky's throat and he was coming, warm and wet with each erratic jerk against Bucky's tongue until his body had given all it could. 

Bucky's steady hands held him close, gently kneading the muscles in his thighs and hips that were beginning to cramp. Bucky waited for Steve to pull away, not wanting to let him out of his mouth a second sooner than he had to. Steve pulled off the used rubber and tied a knot in it like Bucky told him to, then he gingerly put himself back together. 

"Good?" Bucky asked quietly, sitting back and fiddling with a loose piece of rag rug that had come out of its braid when he'd knelt on it. 

Steve wasn't sure what Bucky was asking about, his own skills or Steve's enjoyment, but Steve figured the pain he was going to feel in the morning was worth it. Far too sensitive to straddle Bucky's lap again, he curled up beside him and rested his head on Bucky's arm, heaved a tired sigh and closed his eyes. 

"The best."

☆


	4. Wednesday, December 20th

"Daddy.  _ Daddy!" _ Tony's eyes popped open when Morgan plopped down on his stomach and patted his cheeks again, whispering loudly enough to wake the dead, "Bucky's makin' pancakes, come  _ on!" _

"Pancakes." Tony rubbed his eyes and checked his watch; six AM on the dot. Since when had Morgan been an early riser? "Can't miss pancakes. Let's let Mommy sleep, though, huh?" 

"Okay." Morgan scrambled down off the bed and bolted out of the room before Tony had even found his slippers. He stopped to gently press a kiss to Pepper's temple before closing the door silently behind him.

Bucky was indeed at the stove making pancakes when Tony walked into the kitchen, being assisted by Morgan, perched on a chair pulled up to the counter and slicing bananas with a dull butter knife to decorate the pancakes with. Bucky turned to look when Morgan tugged on his sleeve, grinning fondly in a way that made Tony's chest pinch a little. 

"Never took you for the domestic type, Barnes."

Bucky glanced back over his shoulder with a tight smile. "I like helping."

"Mm." Tony hummed and grabbed a baking dish from the cupboard to keep a serving of pancakes warm in the oven for Pepper when she woke up. 

"I've already got some in there."

"Of course you do." Tony switched the dish for a coffee mug and started brewing a second pot. "Can never have too much coffee. So, how's Mini-Cap this morning?"

"Still sleeping." Bucky skillfully flipped two big pancakes onto a plate and slid it down the counter to Morgan. "Here you go, sis; have at it."

Morgan clapped her hands once and bent over her work like a miniature master chef, arranging banana slices in a flower design with chocolate chips for leaves and a stem. When she was done, she stepped carefully down and carried the plate to the table. "This one's yours, Daddy."

"Oh, wow, look at that." Tony pulled out a chair and lifted Morgan into his lap, "That is a piece of art. We need to call MoMA and tell them to move Warhol into storage." Glancing up he caught Bucky's soft grin and added, "Warhol did paintings of Campbell's soup cans."

"I've seen them." Bucky nodded quietly, bringing another stacked plate and a much smaller one to the table along with the rest of Morgan's toppings. "Steve showed me a collection of modern art online once. I like Warhol's stuff."

Well, that was… nice. Tony wasn't sure what else to say, so he got on with eating his breakfast. He did watch Bucky, though; from the corner of his eye and in brief glances when he thought Bucky wasn't looking. The guy was extremely calm and soft spoken; like, Mr. Rogers levels of chill. Morgan seemed to be securely attached to him, too. Which… was okay, actually. If slightly uncomfortable for Tony, who was fully capable of putting on his big boy Iron Man pants and dealing with the odd pang of jealousy. 

Tony looked up when Bucky stood to clear his place with about the tenth glance toward the stairs and a worried little chew of the lip. 

"What's up, pussycat?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing." Bucky shook his head, turning away from the table to start running a sink of hot water for the dishes. He could feel Tony's eyes following him; he didn't mind, really. He didn't expect forgiveness for what had happened, but he hoped for Pepper's sake, for Morgan's, and for Steve's, that he and Tony could coexist peacefully for as long as the people they cared about needed them to. 

At the moment his main concern was making sure Steve ate something with his pills. 

Tony stood and waved him away from the sink, rolling up his sleeves and plunking his own plate in the suds. "Go on. You've been staring at those stairs for half an hour. I've got this."

"Thanks." Bucky took the stairs two at a time. There wasn't any reason to believe that Steve wasn't just sleeping in, but the knot of worry in his stomach wasn't giving him any peace. Reaching Steve's room, he tapped lightly with his knuckles, waited, tapped again before opening the door a crack. 

"Steve?"

"Nughhhh."

"I'm coming in, pal." Bucky stepped inside and headed over to the bed to give Steve a soft kiss on the forehead. Steve grit his teeth and buried his face in the blankets. 

"I'm not hungry, Buck."

"What about your pills?"

"They're not helping." Steve's breath hitched sharply. Bucky knew by now that he was hiding how much pain he was really in, which by Steve's standards was likely excruciating. 

"What can I do?"

"Nothing." Steve rolled far enough to return Bucky's kiss with a tight grimace; just being able to do that felt like enough of a miracle for one morning. Thankfully Bucky let him be after bringing him another bottle of water and a couple of oatmeal bars. Steve waited for the door to quietly click shut, then he let out a string of silent expletives into his pillow. 

He really didn't want to tell Bucky that the only reason he was in bed was because he couldn't even handle getting his dick sucked without something in his body falling apart. He didn't want to tell Bucky that when his legs had given out he'd pulled a muscle that had led to his knee popping out of joint during the night, or that he'd nearly fainted from the pain a couple of times, and had barely gotten any sleep. 

He also wasn't about to tell Bucky that his new pills were making him feel sicker than a cat and that he hadn't taken any since yesterday morning.

Snaking a hand out from under the blankets, he grabbed an oatmeal bar and clamped the end of the wrapper between his teeth so he could sit up without swearing too loudly. He knew he'd have to get up at some point; Bucky wouldn't leave him alone forever, and he'd need to use the bathroom, and eat, and do some kind of chores to earn his keep, and...

Snap.

_ Fuck! _

Steve's stomach lurched and his ears rang, and his skin broke out into a cold sweat for neither the first or last time since he'd crawled into bed the night before. And, okay, he really shouldn't have sent Bucky away, because now he really did have to use the bathroom and no way in hell was he getting there without throwing up from the pain. 

Deciding the pills were better than nothing, Steve shook one into his palm and choked it down with half a bottle of water. It burned like fire on the way down, but after a few minutes the pain in his knee became bearable enough that he could hop one-legged to the bathroom without irreversible consequences. 

Of course he'd run into Tony on the way back to bed, wobbling on one foot while he clung to the walls on either side of the narrow hallway with his face turning green despite a heavy blush of embarrassment at being caught in his pajamas. Tony didn't say a word, only waited for him to pass before slipping into his own room with a tray of warm pancakes and tea.

Steve held back a weak heave at the thought of food, stumbled into his room and shut the door. 

  
  


☆

"I saw Steve a couple minutes ago." Tony announced a quarter of an hour later, after setting Pepper's tray on the counter next to the coffee machine, pouring himself a fresh cup and giving Bucky's a top-up. "He was hobbling on one foot, and looked like he had a hangover."

" _ Shit. _ Uhm…" Bucky ran a hand through his hair and blew out an exasperated breath. "Could you take him to the hospital? I don't think my truck's got enough gas."

"Uh, sure?" Tony ignored the panicked alarm bells going off in his brain as he grabbed a light jacket from the coat rack and started pulling on his shoes. "What's wrong with him? I could call in a helicopter but it'd take a few."

"No, it's his knee. He's got-" 

"OW! Goddammit motherf-"

"Yeah." Bucky jerked a thumb over his shoulder, but he and Tony were already running for the stairs, "he's got joints that dislocate on him."

Tony felt his own pre-arthritic knees cringe in sympathy when they finally crested the landing to find Steve curled on the hallway runner, fully dressed, but unable to move an inch from where he'd fallen. Pepper was kneeling over him, too, gently stroking his hair and asking if he wanted her to find Bucky. 

"I got him," Bucky murmured, resting one hand on Steve's back to let him know he was there before gently touching the knee he guessed was causing the problem. Steve grunted loudly and tried to move away. Bucky rubbed his back and glanced up at Pepper. "Do we have any long bandages?"

"I think there's some under the sink." Pepper stepped around Tony into the bathroom and came back with two wadded lengths of stretchy sports wrap Tony kept for bracing his elbows when he was welding. Not wanting to feel useless, Tony grabbed the worst gnarled of the two and started unwinding it. 

"Bruce could probably take a look at him. Be closer than the hospital."

Tony watched Bucky and Pepper share a brief look, then Bucky chewed his lip again, obviously warring with himself over something before finally nodding. "Okay."

"I heard yelling." Morgan peeked over the top of the steps at the huddle of grownups, timidly crawling over to Pepper's side and popping her thumb into her mouth. "Wha's th' matter with Stevie?"

"Hey, Morgan," Steve smiled gently, carefully keeping his voice quiet and even so she wouldn't feel scared, "I just tripped and hurt my knee. Everything's okay."

"Will it get better?"

"Sure it will." Steve grit his teeth against the pain of Bucky moving his leg to wrap it. "In a couple days it won't hurt at all. Then we can go outside and build a snowman, how's that sound?"

"Yeah."

"All set, pal." Bucky gave Steve's shoulder a comforting squeeze, then he grinned at Morgan, "hey, sis, can you be a big helper and find Steve's jacket?"

"Okay!" 

"You've got about thirty seconds to swear if you need to," Bucky muttered as soon as Morgan was out of earshot. Steve groaned quietly and sat up, allowing Bucky to lift him under the armpits and set him on his good foot. "Want me to carry you downstairs?"

"No, I do not." Steve hopped gingerly to the head of the stairs, gripped the banister firmly and took one defiant step down, then he turned to look up at Pepper with a wry smile. "Sorry for interrupting your morning, ma'am." 

Pepper hugged herself tight and started rubbing her arms, shivering slightly in her thin pajama pants and tee shirt. Her eyes had exhausted, dark circles under them, but somehow she still managed to look attentive and unfailingly kind. "It's fine, Steve. Feel better soon, okay?"

"I got your coat!" Morgan hollered, dragging Steve's jacket to the foot of the stairs so he could see it. Steve waved to her, then he smiled at Pepper. Just for a moment, he felt his heart grow warm like they'd known each other for years. "Thanks, Mrs. Stark. I'm sure I will."

  
  


☆

Riding in the car with Tony was even more awkward than eating dinner with him, sitting in the living room with him, or doing literally anything else with him. Steve had no idea who they were to each other in his future life, if anything, but the way Tony kept clearing his throat and avoiding looking at him, Steve could only guess that they weren't close friends. 

"I guess I should tell you about Bruce." Tony said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel while he waited for an empty intersection light to turn green. "You might've seen him the other day. Big green guy, has a thing for cable sweaters. The green thing is normal for him, by the way." 

Steve just nodded and went back to looking out the window. Tony huffed under his breath and gunned the engine, not giving a hoot for the red light or the speed limit. They were almost to the Compound anyway; no one but Vis or Carol was going to see him speeding.

"We're here."

Steve glanced up at Tony's announcement, then he did a double take at the single new building rising out of a deeply gouged patch of earth, surrounded by the half-burned ruins of older structures, warehouses, and offices. His mouth dropped open a little, both from the overwhelming sense of  _ déjà vu _ , and from trying to imagine the sheer size of whatever had caused that kind of damage. "Is that the Compound?"

"What's left of it." 

This time Steve did glance over at Tony; the guy looked as lost as Steve felt, jaw tight and eyes wide with unease. At least they had that much in common...

"Tony! Steve!" The giant green man Steve had seen in the Stark's garage waved from where he was sweeping the previous night's dusting of snow from the walkway before jogging over to the car. He slowed when he reached them, his eyes shining with tears as he crouched to grin at them both. "It's so good to see you guys. What brings you out here?"

"Steve needs a little TLC," Tony answered, waving in Steve's general direction, even though Steve had no idea what tee-el-see was. "I wanted to see how the work was going. You busy?" 

Bruce shrugged, smiling as he waited for Tony to jog around to Steve's side of the car before he could escape his seatbelt. "Always. Carol and Rhodey are setting up a space training program for the Air Force, and Wanda and Vision are taking some time off in Iceland. I'm keeping an eye on things here for a couple more days, then I'm heading down to the big hospital to hand out presents to the kids."

When Tony finally let him out, Steve noticed for the first time that Bruce's right arm was held tightly to his chest by a black sling; his neck and hand were both heavily scarred in a way that made Steve's stomach clench with empathy. Accepting Tony's strong arm of support around his waist, Steve picked his way painfully to the Compound's spartan medical bay and allowed himself to be deposited on the edge of a crisply made bed. 

"You good for a while?" Tony asked, figuring Steve probably didn't want him around while he discussed his personal health, or lack thereof. Steve nodded, gritting his teeth in a frankly grotesque smile Tony could have happily gone his entire life not seeing. "Good. Let me know when you're ready to go h... er, get out of here."

Steve ignored the stumble and closed his eyes to focus on breathing without throwing up. When he opened them again, Bruce was still waiting for him with the same serenely patient look on his face. 

"Seems like you're in a lot of pain."

"You could say that." Steve bit back a breathy grunt, shifting his hands behind him to take some of the strain off his leg. "I think I pulled something in the night."

"Mind if I take a look?" 

Steve shook his head and made to lay back on the bed so he could undo his pants, but Bruce was already tapping something into a handheld device and waving it slowly over Steve's knee. 

"Yep, you sure did," Bruce said, popping up a holographic projection so Steve could see what was going on. "Your right knee's subluxed; partially dislocated. We can get it back into place but you'll need to go easy on it for a while; no rigorous activity." 

_ Did sex usually count as a rigorous activity? _ Steve wasn't about to ask that question, so he bit his lip and nodded while Bruce rummaged through a small refrigerator for an ice pack.

  
  


☆

Bucky didn't let himself worry about Steve until after he'd finished the dishes, put in a load of laundry, got Morgan another snack, and made sure she was settled in with her coloring books, baby dolls, Hot Wheels, and a  _ dry _ tea set. 

They had a routine; breakfast, morning chores, and an hour or so of quiet play time to give Pepper an extra few minutes to get ready for the day. Since the funeral, Pepper's health had taken a nosedive from mediocre to barely functioning. Over the past six months her doctors had mis-diagnosed her so many times - Lyme, Fibromyalgia, CFS, Arthritis - that she'd finally told them all to stuff their stethoscopes and went home to deal with her life the best way she could. 

Bucky waited for his quiet tap on the door to be answered before he stuck his head in a little ways, holding a hand over his eyes with a grin. "Anybody home?"

Pepper laughed quietly and patted the end of her bed. "You can come in, I'm decent." 

Bucky slipped inside, leaving the door open a crack so he'd hear Morgan if she needed anything. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Not my best day." Pepper grimaced down at her stiff fingers, flexing and curling them slowly in her lap. There was a lot she hadn't told Tony, yet; her declining health being the least of it. "I pushed too hard yesterday. I just wanted to have a nice, normal date with my husband without analyzing every little thing I ate for a flare up."

Pepper shook her head slightly, turning her gaze to the bedside table where Morgan's first Christmas photo sat. Tony had fussed for hours ahead of time to build a perfect backdrop, made sure all of their outfits matched, and even bought an old fashioned thirty-five millimeter camera for effect, but in the end every shot had come out imperfect, blurry, or off center. "Tony's… he's trying so hard to fit back in; really, really hard, and I'm worried about him. When things don't work the way he thinks they should he starts picking himself apart trying to figure out where he went wrong."

"Sounds familiar." Bucky snorted softly, and Pepper managed to crack a smile. 

"So, how's Steve doing?"

"Ah, you know Steve." Bucky shrugged, carefully taking a seat so he wouldn't jostle the mattress too much, "he's just being Steve."

"Bucky…" Pepper's fingers found their way into Bucky's metal hand, permanently hidden under his glove until he was ready for Steve to see it. She squeezed lightly, not letting him go. "It's okay."

Bucky let out a shaky breath. Part of him didn't want to talk about what had happened to Steve; it was overwhelming enough to think about, let alone put into words. But he also knew that of all the people he could spill his guts to, Pepper wouldn't judge him for how he felt. "He's so… not just young; I mean, he's only eighteen, but… all he remembers is the life he had in Brooklyn, the life  _ we _ had, and he's… I'm terrified I'm gonna hurt him. I'm terrified of having a flashback in front of him. I just nudge him and it leaves a bruise. His knee only went out 'cause we-" Bucky blushed hotly; Pepper kindly didn't say anything. 

"You know he loves you." She said after a few moments of letting the warmth of Bucky's hands ease a little of the pain in her own. "You'll figure it out."

"You will too. I don't know Tony, but he's gotta be pretty special if you like him."

"Flatterer," Pepper smiled softly, then she lowered her gaze and drew in a short breath. "I like you, too."

"Pep..."

"I like you, Bucky." Pepper's fingers tightened; she closed her eyes, choosing her words carefully so they didn't all spill out of her before she was ready. "I think I like you more than a friend."

Bucky glanced up at the ceiling, blinking back a sudden rush of heat to his eyes. He'd had a feeling Pepper was wanting more from him than he could give for a while, but he hadn't been ready to tell her. He'd loved Steve since he was six years old, had never felt anything remotely romantic for anyone else in his life. The shattered memories of Steve he kept hidden in the back corners of his mind were the only thing that got him through his years with HYDRA; Steve's voice was the only thing that helped him break his programming, Steve was the only one who gave him a chance when the whole world was against him. He'd only just started being able to make love to Steve the way he wanted to a few years ago, and then the Snap happened, and some days… some days it felt like Steve was the one who'd died instead of him. 

Bucky let out another long breath. He loved Steve -  _ God, he loved him like he needed air _ \- but the way Steve pushed him away for so long-

"Oh, God..."

"What?"

"He set us up." Bucky groaned quietly and buried his face in his hands, shaking his head in disbelief. "He never meant to come back from fighting Thanos; or he didn't think he could. He's been pushing us at each other since the funeral; he wanted to make sure we were both taken care of."

"That… oh… wow."

"Yeah." 

Pepper leaned back into her pillows for a moment to let the situation thoroughly sink in. It made sense; Steve would have wanted Bucky to have a family again, regardless of how it would have broken his own heart to lose the man he loved. Steve had also felt a deep grief and responsibility for Tony's death, one Pepper had felt hit incredibly close to home; seeing that Tony's family was cared for would have been one of Steve's top priorities. Now… 

Pepper drew back her shoulders with a smile it hurt Bucky's heart to see. "Well. We have them both back now. So that's that."

"I like you, too." Bucky said it quickly, before Pepper could close herself off again; before he could overthink or stumble over what he wanted to say. "I'm not in love with anyone but Steve, but I'd like to… I want to be here for you, if you'll let me."

He didn't know what exactly he was asking for, or how it was going to work out, with Tony, with Steve, even with Morgan, but he knew he wanted Pepper to be happy. He loved seeing her happy, seeing her rare smiles and hearing her once-in-a-blue-moon laughter; he wanted her to feel cared for and supported, for as long she wanted and he was able to provide it. 

Over the past few months he'd also gotten the impression that Pepper didn't blush very often, but in that moment, the faintest hint of pink was blooming under the freckles on the bridge of her nose. "Thanks, Bucky."

"You need to talk to Tony."

"Are you going to talk to Steve?"

"Yeah." Bucky swallowed tightly, not sure if he was scared or excited by the idea of explaining queerplatonic polyamory to a kid who'd just had his first blow job. He didn't get much chance to worry over it; following a scuffling noise in the hall, Morgan pushed through the door dragging along her favorite Iron Man plushie by one leg and an armload of picture books. 

"Is it story time yet?"

"It is absolutely story time!" Pepper shot Bucky a quick smile, and pulled back the blankets so Morgan could scramble in where it was warm. "You're welcome to stay if you want, Bucky."

Bucky shook his head with a grin. "Nah, I've got some things to do. You girls have a lovely time." 

"Laters!"

"Laters, sis!"

Morgan watched Bucky go, then she snuggled closer under Mommy's arm. "When's Daddy coming back?"

"Oh, probably in a couple of hours. It depends on how long it takes for Bruce to take care of Steve's leg." Pepper smoothed Morgan's dry, staticky hair down with a little kiss. "We can call him and ask if you want."

Morgan shook her head and started picking at the crinkly blue and silver boot-jet on her Iron Man doll's foot. She was still getting used to having Daddy at home again; she didn't want to talk to him on the phone. "Is Bucky gonna go away now that Daddy's back?"

"Would you like him to stay?"

"Yeah. But I don't want Daddy to die again."

"Daddy's not going to die again, sweetheart." Pepper bit her lip, silently,  _ fervently _ , praying that she wasn't telling Morgan another lie. "Not for a long, long, long time anyway. Bucky and Steve can stay as long as they want to, but if they want to live at the Compound, that's okay, too, and we can respect their choice."

Pepper closed her eyes for a moment, taking Iron Man's squishy hand and giving it a squeeze. "Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

Morgan shook her head. 

"Then let's read some stories."

Pepper waited for Morgan to pick the book she wanted and to get comfortable, then she gave her one more kiss and started to read. Even with her body hurting, and a dozen other things in her head fighting for attention, she pushed everything away.  _ Nothing _ in the world was more important than spending time with her baby girl.

  
  


☆

When Tony wandered back to the med bay half an hour later, he found Steve passed out on the bed, snoring peacefully, and from the looks of it without any pain. Bruce glanced up from his tablet, holding a finger to his lips for quiet, and pointed for Tony to follow him out of the room.

"I gave him a shot to help him relax, so he's probably gonna sleep for a while. Don't let him walk on that leg until tomorrow at the earliest."

"Have you ever known Steve to sit still that long?"

"What do you think the shot was for?"

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Sneaky, Dr. Banner. Very sneaky."

"It's good to have you back, Tony." Bruce smiled at his long-time friend and lab partner. He'd really missed him, both in the last six months, as well as the past five years. Tony returned the smile with a crooked one of his own.

"Couldn't have done it without you." Tony shook his head, "I don't know if I ever…"

"It was a team effort." The right corner of Bruce's mouth lifted a little, but Tony could tell the compliment made him uncomfortable. For once Tony didn't push it. "How's Steve doing? He didn't say much before I knocked him out. He seemed a little more reserved than usual."

"He's…" Tony chewed hard on the end of his tongue. "He's Steve, you know? But he's a kid now, and he doesn't remember any of us except Barnes, and he barely looks me in the eye when we're in the same room together, and it's…"

"Sounds tough." 

"I just want him to know." Tony spun to face Bruce, looking up and up into his kind brown eyes, desperately trying to find the words for a feeling he'd never quite been able to let himself reach out and hold. "How much. He doesn't. I never…"

"Do you want a hug?"

"Yes, please."

Tony let himself free-fall into Bruce's arm, smushed his face in Bruce's stomach and clenched his hands tightly into the thick cables of Bruce's sweater. He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, not letting it go until the last of his oxygen was used up and he was ready to pass out. Bruce carefully rubbed one huge hand over his back, humming quietly until Tony peeled himself away. 

"Thanks."

"Anytime." Bruce patted Tony's shoulder, gesturing back toward the med bay where they could hear Steve starting to groan himself awake. "Maybe Steve just needs a hug, too."

"Yeah, I think we'll work on exchanging complete sentences first." Tony snorted a little more wetly than he liked, and hurried to wipe his eyes on his shirt cuff. Bruce shook his head, leaving the door open so Tony could come in when he was ready. Tony stayed outside for a couple minutes longer so Steve wouldn't think he'd been watching him sleep...

Not that he'd really mind watching him sleep. Not in a creepy way! Just... keeping watch over him; being able to watch him rest peacefully for a while would be… 

"Hey, Shellhead."

"Coming."

Tony buried his longing under a ton of rubble in the back of his brain and pasted on a quick smile. He had things to do, a Steve to transport and deliver back to Barnes for safekeeping. He had a wife and daughter to take care of, even if he didn't know how to anymore. 

When Tony stepped through the doorway he found Steve sitting up in bed with a brace on his knee and a loopy grin on his face from whatever magical tranquilizer Bruce had given him. He looked at Tony -  _ finally looked at him _ \- and stifled a giggle. "Why'd he call you Shellhead?"

"Because I've got a noggin as thick as a coconut shell." 

Steve snorted loudly, swinging his unimpeded leg back and forth off the side of the bed. "Buck calls me punk 'cause I argue too much." 

Tony felt his heart thump hard against his artificial sternum as he watched Steve hang his head and look away with a sigh. How many times had he made Steve feel like shit after one of their nuclear level blowups? Both of them fighting for what they believed in even when it tore their friendship apart over and over and over. 

"Hey. Steve." Tony swallowed, took a few tentative steps forward until he was less than a yard away; close enough that reaching out to squeeze Steve's shoulder felt almost like coming home. "I'm glad you're okay, buddy."

"Thanks." Steve's grin returned a little less bright, but no less welcome as he let Tony help him hobble back to the car. He even waved goodbye to Bruce, wishing him an ear-splitting "MERRY CHRISTMAS!" when Tony spun the car a few times in the fresh snow to make him laugh. 

Steve barely sat still on the ride back to the cabin, asking Tony a million and one questions he'd never have allowed himself to if he wasn't high as a kite. Tony answered every single one without stopping for breath; he would honestly have spent the rest of his life explaining how his car worked, why the sky was so blue, or what the internet was, just to see Steve's eyes go wide with awe and curiosity. 

Stopping for ice cream was just as wonder-making an experience for Steve as seeing his first YouTube video of Judy Garland singing  _ Over the Rainbow _ on Tony's phone  _ (on his telephone!) _ . Standing next to Tony in the shop, Steve's eyes flicked rapidly trying to take everything in; almost a hundred flavors, most of which he'd never heard of, in cones, in dishes, in waffle bowls, over brownies, or coffee, or soda, hard serve or soft serve, from single scoops to five gallon tubs and everything in between.

"Holy cow…"

"Pretty cool, huh? There's tons of vegan ones, too, if you don't want milk."

"Okay… what're you gonna have?"

"Hmm…" Tony tapped a finger to his lips thoughtfully, "I think I will get a soft cappuccino cone, and a gallon of vanilla coconut to go."

Steve wanted to blush for forgetting about the others missing out on the treat, but he was glad Tony had remembered. Heaving a little overwhelmed sigh, he shook his head and shrugged. "I guess I'll take whatever's cheapest."

_ Well that stung. _ "Steve," Tony softened his tone, barely resisting the urge to crouch down so he'd be able to look up into Steve's face. "It's okay to pick what you really want. Ice cream isn't expensive; hell, you can have a whole tub to yourself. I just wanted you to have something fun since you're not feeling great."

Steve let out another small breath and closed his eyes. There was something about Tony that reminded him of Daddy Warbucks; a kind benefactor taking in a ragtag orphan and showering them with gifts. But at the same time… Steve resisted the flush of heat rising on his cheeks; at the same time, Daddy Long Legs might be closer...

"May I have chocolate?"

"Hard, soft, cone, tub?"

"Soft cone, please."

"One soft cone coming up."

Steve didn't look at Tony while he ordered their ice cream and paid for it, (he really did not want to know how much it cost). He also did not let himself shiver at the warmth of Tony's fingers when he handed Steve his ice cream and offered his free arm to help Steve back out to the car. He  _ absolutely refused _ to entertain the thought that it all felt a little like being taken out on a date.

All of his uncomfortable thoughts were soon washed away on a river of chocolate ice cream and YouTube videos, and by the time they found their way back home… the  _ Stark's _ home, Steve was feeling exhausted again. He watched Tony put away the extra ice cream in the freezer, and for a moment he felt something... some friendly, teasing comment spring to the tip of his tongue... but then it was gone. Pushing the sense of dissatisfaction aside, Steve excused himself, thanking Tony for the ice cream and for taking him to visit Bruce. 

He couldn't help feeling a tiny pang of shame at the relieved smile Bucky gave him on his way upstairs, but he grinned back and let Bucky tease him about the smudge of chocolate on his mouth, and even snuck in a quick kiss when he was sure no one was looking. 

  
  


☆

"Fair's fair, Buck." Steve said later that night, planting his hands on his hips and giving Bucky a stern look. "You got me off two days in a row without doing anything for yourself. I can't move this leg, so you might as well let me take care of you."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Alright, I give in."

"Yeah?" Steve's brows lifted in surprise; he hadn't actually expected Bucky let him do anything more than necking. "What do you wanna do?" 

"Don't know yet." Bucky's smile slipped a fraction, barely enough for Steve to notice before it disappeared behind a boyish grin. "Maybe you can think of something."

Steve leaned back against his headboard and crossed his arms over his chest to give it some thought. He hadn't seen Bucky's arm yet, which was fine, even if he never did. He hadn't really seen much else of Bucky yet, either, which was less fine, but he didn't mind waiting until Bucky was ready to do that, too. Remembering the size of Bucky's erection  _ under his jeans, _ Steve had serious doubts whether he'd be able to satisfy Bucky with his mouth as much as Bucky'd done for him. But maybe...

"Could I jerk you off?"

Bucky's expression looked as surprised as Steve's had a few minutes earlier. "That sounds really nice."

"It's only a handy, Buck. Nothing like what you did for me."

"I like it that way." Bucky murmured softly and lowered his head slightly so his hair fell into his face. Steve didn't know what to make of that, but something about it made his stomach tighten sadly. The moment passed before Steve had the chance to ask questions, which he figured was probably for the best. Bucky smiled again and tapped a finger to his lips. "Kisses first."

"Don't have to ask me twice." Steve grinned and scooted his butt across the bed so he was sitting sideways in Bucky's lap. "Hi, Buck," he said, pressing a small kiss to Bucky's lips. 

"Hi, Stevie." Bucky melted and wrapped his arms around Steve's waist to keep him close. For a moment he hid his face in Steve's neck, not kissing him, just breathing shallowly with his eyes closed. Steve waited quietly until he got what he needed, not commenting on the interruption when Bucky started kissing him. 

"How was your day?" Bucky asked a few minutes later, when Steve had lost his breath for the time being and was letting Bucky peck a little way down his open shirt collar. 

Steve laced his fingers behind Bucky's neck and let his head drop back to give Bucky more space to kiss. "Kinda long. Mr. Stark kept hovering around like I was gonna break or something. Not sure what that was all about. You?"

"Got some chores done that've been backing up. Morgan's got cabin fever; gonna have to take her outside to play in the yard."

"Why doesn't…" Steve paused to groan quietly at a particularly good kiss that made his toes go all warm and tingly, "her dad take her to the park or something?"

"I think he's scared to." Bucky leaned back for a minute to catch his breath, slowly rubbing Steve's back with his thumbs, "He doesn't remember dying. It's like blacking out; one minute you're up walking around, the next you're somewhere else with no idea how you got there. Everything's different, your friends have new problems you can't help them with, you don't know where you belong anymore…"

"Sounds familiar." Steve grimaced and smushed his face into Bucky's chest. 

"Sorry, punk."

"Me too." Steve heaved a sigh and brought his head back up to give Bucky another kiss. He wished he could take away everyone's pain, but the truth was he was just as lost as they were. "How's that helping hand sound about now?

"Sounds good to me." 

Bucky pressed a last kiss to Steve's temple and eased himself up the bed, adjusting the pillows behind his neck and shoulders so he could watch Steve work. Steve winced at a twinge in his knee, but he straddled Bucky's waist for a moment like he'd done to rub himself off. "You want it through your clothes or..?"

"However you wanna do it, I'm easy." Bucky's grin sure was easy; Steve wanted to kiss it so it'd stay on his face forever. His knee hurt too much to hold his weight up to rub his ass on Bucky's dick, so he shimmied backward, nudging Bucky's legs open until he could sit comfortably between them. Bucky raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Comfy down there?"

"Can it, jerk." 

"Oh, yeah? You gonna make me?"

Steve didn't answer; he held Bucky's gaze as he leaned forward to press his lips to the placket of Bucky's jeans. Bucky bit his lip hard. 

"Good?"

Bucky nodded. 

Leaning comfortably on Bucky's thigh, Steve lazily traced the outline of his dick with the tips of his fingers, dragging his nails up and down the placket from crotch seam to button. He did that for a while before checking in from the corner of his eye to see how Bucky was liking it. Bucky looked transfixed; he hadn't stopped biting down on his lip, but his fingers had found handfuls of Steve's quilt, clenching hard to keep himself still. 

_ What the fuck had Steve's older self done to make Bucky feel like he couldn't even show that he wasn't enjoying himself. _ "Buck, stop. It's okay."

Bucky blinked out of his trance to give Steve a confused look. "What's okay?"

Steve waved a hand at Bucky's fists. "You're obviously not enjoying this. It's okay to tell me to stop. I really don't mind."

"I… was enjoying it." Bucky said slowly. Steve just kept staring at him like he was waiting for him to drop the other shoe, which… there wasn't one. "Did I do something weird?"

"Only looked like you were in a lot of pain, or you really didn't want my hands on you."

Bucky's face went blank for a few more seconds before contorting into an apologetic grimace. "Sorry. That had nothing to do with you. I promise."

"Was it older me?" Steve pushed himself up on his hands so he wasn't as close to Bucky's legs as he had been. Bucky didn't move at all, but he looked like he wanted to shrink in on himself and disappear. "Did he- did  _ I hurt you."  _

"No." Bucky shook his head, firmly. "No, Steve, you've never hurt me. It was... a long time ago. The scientists that had me used to fuck with my head. I never got used to people being nice to me."

_ Didn't he ever touch you nicely... _

"I'm sorry." Steve softened his tone so Bucky wouldn't feel any worse. He placed a tentative hand back on Bucky's thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze. Bucky smiled sadly and sat up to meet him halfway for another kiss. 

"It's okay, baby, you didn't know." 

"Did I-"

"Leave it alone, punk."

"Alright." Steve let his questions simmer in the back of his mind for the time being so he could focus on what Bucky needed; he was still looking a little tense around the eyes, and Steve still wanted to help him feel better, if he could. "Wanna try again?"

"You never give up." Bucky chuckled, brushing Steve's cheek fondly with his right thumb. 

Steve gave him a quick peck on the wrist and gently pushed him to lay back down. "Go get comfortable."

Steve kept a hand on Bucky's leg while he waited for him to settle into the pillows again, then he leaned over to rummage through the nightstand, and tossed something soft onto Bucky's chest. "I don't know what the hell this is, but maybe it'll help."

Bucky had to bite back a guffaw when he looked down at the peach shaped stress ball in his hand. Steve grinned in relief and nestled himself between Bucky's thighs.

"Good?"

"I'm good, Stevie. I'm good."

"Good." Steve rubbed his hands gently up and down the outsides of Bucky's thighs for a minute to settle them both before he started working his way in. He made sure to look up more often, smiling reassuringly whenever Bucky would squeeze his peach, and slowing down if he looked like he was drifting too far away. 

When Steve's fingers stopped to rest firmly on Bucky's hips, waiting to make sure he was present and enjoying himself, Bucky gave him a serene smile. "We're good. Don't hold back."

Steve nodded and took a deep breath. 

He wasn't as experienced as Bucky, but he had a good idea what felt good to him, and he hoped that some of it would feel good to Bucky, too. Leaning forward, he let his fingertips drag as he delicately undid the button of Bucky's jeans and began slowly drawing down the zipper. 

He glanced up; Bucky was starting to blush a little, but he still looked happy. 

Steve lowered his head to Bucky's open fly to press another light kiss to his half-hard dick, taking an equally light sniff of Bucky's smell while he was at it. He smelled… different than Steve did; stronger, but not unpleasant. Steve touched Bucky with the tip of his nose and felt a responding shiver. 

"Good?" He asked without looking up.

Bucky's groan in the affirmative was enough to reward with more kisses and nosing until he was hard and squirming. Giving him one last long stroke up the underside of his dick, Steve sat back to check in with a satisfied smile. "Got another rubber?"

"Uh… yeah. In my hip pocket."

"Want me to get it?"

"Let me roll over." Bucky set his jaw and held his breath as he gripped the opposite side of the bed with his metal hand, waited until Steve had retrieved the packet, then let himself fall back in a twitching slump.

"That hurt?" Steve nodded to Bucky's shoulder, squinting at the condom to try and figure out how to open it. 

Bucky shook his head, carefully controlling his breathing so Steve wouldn't hear him rasp. "Just breathless from you kissing me to death down there."

"I wish. How the hell do you get into these things? No, wait, I got it."

Steve stuffed the wrapper into his own pocket and turned back to Bucky's tented drawers with a contemplative hum. "As much as I'd like to, I don't think I can lift your ass to get your pants down."

"Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry." Bucky shimmied his underwear down inside his jeans far enough to free his dick, but didn't make a move to expose himself further. Even the brief glimpses of scarred skin on either side of his groin made Steve's heart ache. Smiling so Bucky wouldn't think he'd been staring, Steve raised the rubber between his fingers.

"You sure you want me doing this all on my own?"

"Too much to handle?" Bucky grinned wide; he knew exactly how much Steve was loving the prospect of finally getting his hands on him. He could also see how scared Steve was to touch him for the first time. 

"Nah, just wanted to make sure you don't hold me responsible for you going off early."

"Think you're that good, huh?" Bucky sat up on his elbows, gently challenging Steve to make his move, but ready to call things off if Steve needed him to. Steve chewed his lip for a moment, then he shook his head.

"I'm not. Could you…"

"Sure, pal." Bucky took the condom from Steve's trembling fingers and quickly rolled it onto himself. He watched Steve's shoulders slump dejectedly, but he didn't give him time to slip into a funk. "Wanna give it another try?"

"Yeah." Steve sat up straight and took another deep breath. "I can do this all day."

"That's the spirit. Just go slow and… ohhh-okay you've got it."

Bucky let his body fall back into the pillows, and grabbed his peach from where it had rolled to the edge of the bed. Steve had taken matters into his own hands, quite literally; Bucky wasn't sure how long he was going to survive. 

Once Bucky's dick was covered, Steve had had no issue in wrapping his hands around it and going to town. The rubber kept wrinkling under his fingers until he thought to spit in his palm -  _ Bucky groaned encouragingly at that - _ and worked on making his strokes smoother. He could feel Bucky trembling underneath him, but when he glanced up Bucky was watching him attentively with an awed grin on his face. He was still lazily squeezing his peach, kneading with his thumb and rolling it in his palm. Steve blushed and ducked his head back down. 

He wasn't sure how much he could take, but somehow he was going to figure out how to give Bucky a nice suck, too. 

Licking his lips, Steve pressed the flat of his tongue against the underside of Bucky's dick where he knew he'd feel it the most. He experimented licking in as many ways as he could remember Bucky doing for him; long flat strokes, small love taps, smooth little swirls around the tip. When he could feel Bucky's balls tightening under his hands, he wet his lips and gently took the head into his mouth. 

Bucky had years of practice climaxing without a single flinch for reasons best left in the past, but he'd never been as grateful for the skill as he was in that moment watching Steve suck him off with such gentleness and care. 

Steve waited for Bucky to finish trembling, then he pressed a last kiss to his bare hip before sitting back so Bucky could clean himself up. 

"Good?" Steve asked after Bucky had tied off his condom and tucked himself away from Steve's gaze and the cool air of the room. He hoped he'd done half as good a job at taking care of Bucky as Bucky had of him. 

Bucky didn't say a word, just drew Steve into his arms and buried his face in his neck again, breathed deeply and didn't let him go. 

  
  


☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're halfway through! 
> 
> If you've been enjoying this fic so far, please consider leaving a comment and letting me know what you like about it! Squees, tears, and keysmashes give me life <3<3<3


	5. Thursday, December 21st

Steve was slightly disappointed when he woke up alone the next morning, having fallen asleep curled up in bed with Bucky clinging to him like a very large, very warm teddy bear. His mood lightened considerably, however, when he found that walking to the bathroom didn't give him more than a slight twinge under his knee brace. 

"Morning, sunshine." Bucky quipped, tugging Steve's ear as they passed in the hall. Steve ducked his head with a grin that turned into an interested hum when he caught sight of the outline of Bucky's very clearly defined dick under his pajama pants. He was just calculating whether he had time to give Bucky another helping hand before anyone else got up, when Morgan came bolting out of her room and ran shrieking down the hallway to wake her parents. 

"I think it snowed again."

"Ah."

"Better bundle up." Bucky grinned and slipped into the bathroom without giving Steve the satisfaction of a second peek. 

Steve huffed and stumped back to his room to get dressed for the day, wiggling his knee brace on over a pair of long underwear, corduroys over that, and layering a thick sweater over his warmest shirt. As packed as the thrift warehouse had been, he hadn't been able to find a solid pair of boots in his size; he doubted his canvas sneakers would do much against the snow, but he could still fit two pairs of wool socks in them without hurting his toes too much. 

The thought of the frown he was in for once Bucky saw his shoes made Steve want to turn right around and go back to bed, but he'd promised Morgan he'd help her make a snowman, and by God he was gonna do it. 

"I'm fine, Buck!" Steve called loudly as he rounded the corner to the kitchen, realizing a second too late that Tony, Pepper, and Morgan had made it down already and were all looking at him.

"Never said you weren't, pal." Bucky shot Steve a smug grin and handed him a stack of plates to set the table with. "How's the knee?"

Steve kept his eyes on his work, not taking the chance of catching anyone smiling at him and making him blush. "It feels a lot better, the brace is really helping." 

"Glad to hear it." Tony handed Steve a stack of cutlery, thankfully not noticing the way Steve held his breath until he'd turned back to the counter to finish fixing Pepper a mug of tea. Pepper had her hands in a sink of hot water, washing a set of metal thermoses and plastic containers with tight fitting lids, while Morgan sat at her usual spot at the end of the table, folding napkins. 

Steve felt his heart squeeze for a few beats remembering all the mornings he'd spent making breakfast with his mother, sometimes with Bucky's help, when he'd stay over, and he wished… he wished he could be a part of a family again… to have someone give a damn about him and be there for him as much as he would be for them.

Before he could make himself too morose, Steve shook off his thoughts and ruffled Morgan's hair when she passed him the napkins. "Ready to build a snowman, sis?"

"Yeah!"

"Alright, gotta eat that spinach, then. Gonna need great big muscles for this job." Steve did his best Popeye impression, squinching up one side of his face and flexing his arms. Morgan nearly fell off her chair laughing, or she would have if Bucky hadn't swooped in to catch her.

"Easy there, Sweetpea. Let's save those nosedives for the sledding hills, huh?" Bucky gave Steve a wink that had no business being used in mixed company. "I'll be your Olive Oyl any day, sailor."

"Buck."

"Sorry." Bucky hid a smirk, looking anything but repentive, then he turned back to the stove and brandished his spatula with a fancy twirl. "Chow's on, come get it while it's hot!"

Until that moment Steve hadn't realized how hungry he was, but now the smells of Bucky's cooking filling his nose made his mouth water and his stomach grumble. Eggs, toast, sausage, and sweet potato hashbrowns, plus an extra helping of Mrs. Rogers special fried mushrooms. 

Steve had to wipe his eyes on his sleeve when Bucky handed him his plate, leaning in for a second to whisper something comforting in his ear before getting his own breakfast and following Steve to the table. Bucky pulled out a chair and settled in next to him, letting their feet touch under the table while they ate. 

"So, Steve," Pepper said a few minutes later, trying to make sure and include him in the morning conversation, "what's your favorite winter activity?"

Steve hurried to swallow a mouthful of hashbrown before he could choke, and gamely tried to ignore Bucky's sudden attack of snickering. "Uh. Well, I've done some ice skating, and a little sledding in Prospect Park."

"And threw snowballs with frozen horse biscuits inside 'em."

_ "Bucky!" _

"What? We did!"

"Yeah, when we were _ eight!" _ Steve groaned and dropped his head in his hands. He was not up to Bucky's shenanigans this early in the morning, especially not in front of Mrs. Stark.

Steve took a peek between his fingers to assess the damage, but Pepper's mouth had quirked impishly to one side. Tony on the other hand was looking halfway between amused and mildly disturbed; Morgan just looked past bored and ready to get outside. 

"What's a horse biscuit?" 

"Mrs. Stark, do you have a carrot?" Steve could feel his ears burning, but he hoped his frantic grin was enough to make him not seem like the kind of person who talked about horses personal affairs at the breakfast table. Pepper pointed over her shoulder at the refrigerator, hiding a chuckle in her mug of morning tea.

"In the crisper, left hand side."

"Come on, sis, let's pick out a good nose for your snowman." Steve tickled Morgan's ribs and let her lead him excitedly to the refrigerator. 

Bucky exchanged meltingly soft glances with Pepper that made Tony smirk into his coffee. It wasn't until Morgan had run off to find an extra hat, scarf, and mittens for her snowman that Bucky noticed Steve's lack of appropriate footwear. Bucky raised one eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest, giving Steve a look that made him roll his eyes and groan.

"I _ know. _"

Pepper glanced up from the plate she was handing Tony to stack in the sink. "What's wrong?"

"Steve doesn't have snow boots."

"Oh, I've got a second pair you're welcome to borrow, Steve. I've never used them." When Pepper got up to rummage in the mudroom, Steve leveled a narrow-eyed glare at Bucky's satisfied smirk. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for Pepper's generosity, (or to have warm feet), it was just that Bucky was one _ smug _ sonuvagun when he got his own way.

Giving Bucky the Fuller, Steve thanked Pepper and switched out his shoes, then he helped Morgan into her snowsuit while Pepper packed hot cocoa and cookies into an insulated bag, and Bucky and Tony hurried to finish up the breakfast dishes. It took a pitiful frown from Bucky when they were all deciding who was riding in whose automobiles for Steve to relent and climb into Bucky's truck (even if he'd been planning to all along; not that he'd ever tell Bucky that.) 

In the car ahead of them, Tony flashed his tail lights twice and they were off. Bucky looked as excited as Morgan had that morning as he ground his ancient pickup into gear and took the lead, rumbling along the road to clear a path with his plow. Steve felt his heart thump with fondness watching him; he had an idea that Bucky had been through some rough times, and that he hadn't had a whole lot of moments that made him smile. Bucky caught his eye and grinned, making Steve blush and smile with him.

The drive was beautiful; even from his warm spot by the heater, Steve could feel himself beginning to shiver with anticipation. The sun was shining just enough to keep the day from feeling gloomy, but the air was deliciously crisp without a hint of a breeze. It took Steve a few miles to notice that the landscape he'd believed to be devoid of life, really wasn't. There were animal tracks and tunnels everywhere he looked; birds swooping in the air, squirrels chasing each other in and out of the trees, foxes pouncing for mice, ravens cawing from the tops of tall pines, deer freezing like statues before bolting back into the safety of the forest. 

Life was thriving; mother nature had done what people were still struggling to do; to live, to rebuild, to have families, and friends, and communities. To celebrate being alive. Steve wondered how the world was before the Snap; if it was anything like his own life in Brooklyn had been. Were people happy? Did they have enough to eat? Was there enough money and work to go around? Had they cured any diseases yet? Was being queer still…

Steve blew out a slow, quiet breath. He'd been so caught up in the excitement of making time with Bucky that he'd never stopped to think if they were going to get in trouble. He did his best to keep his voice steady as he put on an easy smile and nodded out the window at the snow. "Nice day, isn't it?"

"Gorgeous. Haven't seen a decent load of snow like this in a long time." Bucky glanced up at the sky with his gentle grin, "Remember that blizzard in thirty-four when half the kids at school got frostbite?"

"I'd rather forget it," Steve snorted, "I didn't get feeling back in my toes for a week."

"Good thing I took care of that." Bucky smirked and slowed down the truck a little to push through a heavy snowbank. "You might've lost 'em if I hadn't had hot armpits."

"Yeah, sweaty ones, too." Steve pulled a face, but he was grateful Bucky had known what to do. At the time he had felt uncomfortable with the closeness, even though he hadn't understood why yet. Now he'd do anything to have Bucky hold him that close. 

"Is it…" Steve chewed his lip, glancing down at his long fingers folded in his lap, "are you gonna get in trouble with anybody for… for what we've been doing?"

"You mean making time?" Steve could feel Bucky's quiet gaze going right through him to his most vulnerable corners, the places he never let himself explore too deeply, let alone anyone else. Steve nodded shakily, barely restraining himself from leaning into the warm hand Bucky settled on his knee. "No one's gonna care, Stevie. And if they do, there's nothing they can do anyway. It's not perfect, but… it's better. A lot better."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Bucky slowed down to a crawl so he could take a moment to lift Steve's chin up with one calloused finger. "Hey, look at me, sweetheart."

Steve looked up, let himself fall. Bucky caught him, just like he always did. 

"No one's gonna take us away from each other again. You got me? This is the end of the line. There isn't anything else we gotta do but be together from here on out."

Steve nodded under the solid weight of Bucky's gaze holding him like an anchor. Bucky smiled and gave him a little kiss on the lips before turning his attention back to the road. Steve sighed and slumped down in his seat, exhausted from worrying and dizzy from the kiss still lingering on his lips; he closed his eyes, just for a second…

"Hey. Come on, punk, we're here."

Steve blinked awake to blinding sunshine and an even more blinding grin as Bucky gave his knee another squeeze and got out of the truck. Steve glanced around as he stepped down himself, his mouth dropping open a little with wonder. The place they'd arrived at looked like a storybook picture come to life; on one side a large rolling hill of snow dipped down to a flawless field of white, while sugar-frosted trees surrounded them on all sides and a smooth, glassy pond sat just ahead, perfectly frozen for skating.

"Wow… it's really beaut-"

"SNOOOOOOOOOW!" 

Morgan ran past in a blur of purple snowsuit and flung herself face first into a fluffy drift. Steve blinked, shaking his head with an amused chuckle, then he climbed up in the truck bed to help Bucky unload the sleds. There were thick rubber tubes, plastic disks, a long toboggan, and one gloriously pristine Flexible Flyer. 

_ Steve was in love. _

"Oh, gee." He whispered almost reverently as Bucky tucked the entire sled under one arm and hopped lightly down from the truck. Was this what heaven looked like? Bucky flashed a smile that made Steve's knees tingle, and he nodded toward the hill. 

"Come on. Let's try it out."

Steve took Bucky's outstretched hand as if in a dream. Everything he'd ever been worried about flew right out of his head; there was nothing but Bucky, Bucky's smile, Bucky's warmth, and that beautiful sled. When they reached the top of the hill, Bucky set it down in a drift of perfect snow and gestured for Steve to get on. 

"Go on, I'll sit behind you."

"Buck, I…" Steve swallowed tightly; he'd wanted a Flexible Flyer since he was six years old looking in Macy's store window. He'd never in his wildest dreams imagined that he'd ever get to touch one, let alone try it out. 

"Merry Christmas, Stevie."

Steve let out a small breath, glancing up one more time at Bucky's gentle grin before taking the rope from him and straddling the gleaming wood. Bucky waited a moment for him to get comfortable, then he settled in behind him, wrapping his body around Steve's and giving the back of his head a little kiss. 

"Ready when you are."

Steve tightened his grip and pushed off. The feeling of flying took his breath away; the rush of cold air stinging his cheeks was as familiar as the back of his own hands, and yet brand new. A loud barking laugh startled itself out of his throat when he steered sharply to the left to avoid an oncoming tree. Bucky squeezed him tighter, letting out a breathy chuckle of his own. 

From the corner of his eye Steve saw Tony and Morgan whiz by on a lime green toboggan, shouting and laughing themselves hoarse at their own speedy descent while Pepper cheered them on. Steve couldn't help grinning at the swell of joy in his heart at being part of such a perfect day. 

At the bottom of the hill, Steve huffed a lungful of crisp air and rubbed the water from his eyes with his sleeve. "That was incredible. We gotta do it again."

"Fine with me," Bucky brushed a layer of snow off his gloves and grabbed the sled, tearing up the hill with a whoop before Steve could blink. "Last one up's a rotten egg!"

"Cheater!" Steve laughed and set off after him. 

Tony watched them go with a sudden overwhelming feeling of wistfulness. He'd never heard Steve laugh so much, or seen him smile so much, if it came to that. The kid was genuinely enjoying himself; actually getting to _ be a kid; _to play in the snow and have fun with his friends. Tony glanced back at Morgan and Pepper, collecting pine cones and winter berries to decorate the snowman with. They were all okay. Life was… life was okay, for the moment. 

"Stevie! Gonna make a snowman!"

"Be right there!" Steve waved from the foot of the hill and helped Bucky up from the air pocket he'd sunk hip-deep into. Tony set the forgotten toboggan out of the way and started making a tight snowball. 

"How big do you want your snowman, madame?"

_ "Huge." _ Morgan spread her arms wide; her eyes seemed to go even wider. "This big."

"Oh my gosh, I don't know if I can do that all by myself. I think you're gonna have to help me." Tony crouched to roll the snowball, making exaggerated grunting and straining noises until Morgan came over to help him push. By the time they had a decent sized snowball, Steve and Bucky had come over and started on another. Tony blinked at the four foot wide behemoth Bucky was rolling almost single-handedly, and tried not to choke. 

"Well, I guess you guys have the bottom covered."

"Or the middle, if you wanna make a bigger one."

Tony felt exhausted just looking at the thing; he was not about to roll his blob of frozen water around for another half hour. "No, I think we're good. Are we good?"

"Yes!" Morgan bounced excitedly, and ran over to help get her snowman's bottom settled. Tony shook his head and bent to pick up the one he and Morgan had been working on; before he could feel the strain in his back, a pair of gloved hands were lifting with him, taking most of the weight but not making it seem like Tony needed the help. Bucky smiled shyly and let Tony heave the snowball into place. 

"One more to go." Steve said, stepping back next to Morgan and readjusting his mittens. "Think we can make the last one?"

"Yeah!" Morgan dropped to her knees and started rolling a handful of snow. Steve knelt beside her, subtly adding bits of snow here and there to keep the shape, but otherwise letting Morgan do it on her own. "Done." She said finally, rolling the snowball at Steve so he could lift it for her. 

Steve smoothed the edges so he could grip it, then he looked up. _ And up. _ That was, uh, one heck of a tall snowman. 

"Here." Bucky crouched down on one knee, steadying himself on the ground with his left hand. "Get on my shoulders."

"Are you sure?"

"You don't weigh that much, Steve." Bucky grinned easily, only the tightness around his eyes betraying the pain he was pushing through. Steve nodded, carefully settling on Bucky's shoulders and trying not to drip snow down his neck. The sudden increase in height when Bucky stood made his head spin, but Steve got the snowball firmly attached at the top of the tower. 

"Hey, sis, can you hand me that carrot?" Bucky kept a hand on Steve's shins, preventing him from sliding down just yet. He liked having Steve up there; his weight was grounding in a way that Bucky'd been missing fiercely the past week. Morgan passed him the snowman's nose and hat, and he passed them up to Steve. "Will you do the honors, pal?"

"My pleasure." Steve stretched a little to get the hat tugged down securely, and made a hollow spot for the carrot nose. Two pinecones followed for eyes, some berry twigs for hair, and a row of stones for the smile. "How's it look, Morgan?"

"Beautiful."

Steve grinned at her wide eyed look of awe, then he patted Bucky's hand on his leg. "Getting a cramp, here, pal."

"Hm? Oh, sorry." Bucky crouched one more time, missing the feeling of Steve's touch before it was even gone. He stood up and laced his hands behind his head to stretch his shoulders. "Looking good up there."

"Sure is." Steve nodded, wiggling one foot to work a kink out of his unwrapped knee. From the ground the snowman looked even taller than it had from eye level. Of course _ now _ he'd notice the line of mouth-stones wasn't quite straight. 

Before Steve could get too nitpicky of his work, Bucky nudged his shoulder and nodded toward the truck where Pepper was opening up the first thermos of cocoa. "Wanna take a break?"

"I want to walk this cramp out." Steve huffed, slowly stumping around the giant snowman and heading for the pond. Bucky followed close behind him, hands slipping into his coat pockets and face turning up to the sky. Steve didn't mind the company; they were always taking walks, either to and from school, across the bridge to the city, halfway across the borough when they ran low on train money. Walking in the park like old fashioned sweethearts… 

Steve sighed and looked over the pond to get his mind back in the present. He wished he would've known earlier how Bucky felt about him; they could have been… well, not living much differently than they had been, but they could've kissed each other good morning, read love poems to each other, been necking and petting on each other, and telling each other how much they loved-

"Look."

Steve looked up to where Bucky was pointing; his soft smile was growing painfully softer by the second with each snowflake drifting down onto his cheeks. On a sudden impulse, Steve closed his eyes and stuck out his tongue; a single perfect snowflake landed right in the middle of it, making him laugh gently with surprise. He opened his eyes again; they were shining so brightly with the cold air and excitement Bucky couldn't help stooping a little to kiss him. 

"What was that for?" 

"Just because."

Steve's cheeks burst with color, and his face lit up with a grin Bucky wished he could keep forever. The tackling hug and kiss Steve gave him in return brought a sudden burst of tears to Bucky's eyes as he sank into Steve's warmth.

"Punk."

"What?"

"Nothing... nothing at all." Bucky broke away a little to kiss the frozen tip of Steve's nose, then he tugged him back toward where Morgan and Tony were amassing a gigantic mountain of snowballs. "Come on. Let's go show 'em what a couple of kids from Brooklyn can do."

"You're on, Barnes." Steve's grin sharpened and he grabbed Bucky's hand, dragging him into another fight he had no hope of winning. At least he couldn't get hurt on snowballs… well, not much, anyway.

  
  


☆

The fight was intense, if short lived. Morgan and Tony won by a margin Bucky's younger self would have been ashamed of if he hadn't been having so much fun. Steve's cheeks looked like he'd fallen into a bucket of red paint, and his lungs were kicking him hard enough that he'd needed to call three breaks to wheeze into his mittens. Once a truce had been called, Bucky broke out the second thermos of cocoa and built a small fire to warm their hands on. After making sure Morgan wasn't sitting too close, Tony wandered over to where Pepper was sitting on the back of Bucky's truck.

"Hi, honey."

"Hi." Pepper was hugging her warm tea thermos close to her chest, trying to hold the pain back so Morgan would have time to play a little longer. "Can we talk for a minute?"

Tony hopped up on the tailgate, scooting closer on the blanket, and putting his arm snuggly around Pepper's shoulders to give them a squeeze. "Yes. Please talk to me. Even if it's about the weather."

"For one thing, I need you to let go of me before I scream." Tony's arm disappeared like he'd been burned; Pepper winced and let out a shaky breath. "I should have told you sooner, but with everything going on… I have a chronic pain disorder. My bones hurt, my muscles hurt, my skin hurts almost constantly. My doctors have me on a special diet, and I go to a physical therapist once a week to keep from getting so stiff I can't move."

Tony laced his own fingers together tightly in his lap to keep from reaching out again. "How long has this been going on?"

"Since the battle. A lot of us who were there have similar symptoms. We think it was caused by breathing in toxins from the wreckage."

"Your armor. The filtration system should've-"

"I had my visor up."

Tony swallowed hard, taking a moment to let what Pepper was saying sink in... _ really sink in… _ then he nodded. "What can I do? I'm assuming nothing, but if there's anything… anything at all-" 

The rest of Tony's sentence was cut off by the sound of Morgan's piercing shrieks and giggles followed by a deep peal of laughter. 

"Bucky."

"He's not replacing you, Tony. Don't even think that."

"But he's." Tony chewed the end of his tongue, searching for the words. "He's here now, right? Long term?"

Tony wasn't sure whether he felt relieved or not when Pepper finally nodded. "I've asked him to be. He's going to talk to Steve about it, but he said he'd like to make it work."

"This hardly seems the time or place to ask, but... why him? Beside the fact that I was dead, and you have every right to date whoever you want."

Pepper let her gaze drift over to the campfire; Bucky was telling a story, his hands spreading wide as his tall tale got bigger and bigger. "Bucky's been really good to us; he didn't have to take on the responsibility of a family, especially ours. But it's more than that; he's… kind. He's genuinely kind, and he's very sweet. Morgan really likes him."

"So… the opposite of me, basically." Tony smirked self-deprecatingly, but he watched Pepper shake her head with a little smile. 

"A lot like you, actually."

"And you like... him? Love? In love?"

This time Pepper didn't smile; she didn't frown either, but Tony could tell she was giving his question the seriousness it deserved. "I'm not sure yet. It's still early, but I can see him being part of our family." 

"What about Steve?" Tony wasn't sure why he asked, or he wasn't ready to analyze it yet, but it felt important to find out while the conversation was open. Pepper's lips twitched up at the corners, making Tony's heart race a little faster. And, okay, he was_ definitely _not ready to go down that road… 

Another thing, now that he knew what to look for, Tony could see how much talking was draining Pepper's energy. He shook his head, giving her his most everything-under-control smile. "Sorry, we can talk later, when you feel better."

"Love you twelve percent, Tony."

"Love you fifteen." Tony blew Pepper a kiss and hopped down from the truck, clapping his hands at the little group around the fire. "Okay, kids! Five more minutes!" 

"Awwww!" 

"No, no aww-ing. The expedition leader has spoken. One more cookie, then we gotta take Mommy home." 

Morgan nodded quietly and finished her snack while Steve started packing up picnic supplies and Bucky got ready to put out the fire. Not wanting Morgan's day to end on a somber note, Bucky plopped down in the snow and started making a snow angel. "Bet mine's prettier than yours, Steve."

"That's what you think!" Steve caught on instantly, laying down next to Bucky's head and flapping his arms so Bucky got a face full of snow. 

"Hey!"

"Yeah, you asked for it!"

Morgan fell over giggling into her mittens, and Tony swung her up in his arms to carry her back to the car. "What is causing these giggles, Miss Morgan?"

"I know a secret."

"A secret. Wow." Tony shuffled sideways to avoid a patch of compacted snow. "What kind of secret?"

"Stevie and Bucky had a sleepover last night."

Tony very definitely did not have the sudden urge to drop Morgan in a snowdrift, rush back to give Bucky the third degree, and ask him what the hell his intentions were. For one thing it was none of his business, for another… 

"Sugar honey iced tea."

"What's that?"

"Nothing. Daddy's just being silly." Tony blew a raspberry on Morgan's cheek, and deposited her in her car seat. Once she was buckled in, he slid behind the wheel and turned around in his seat to see if Bucky and Steve were following them.

"They'll catch up," Pepper was hugging herself tightly again. "Can we please get home, Tony?"

"Yes. Home. On it."

Tony started the car and turned on the heater, adjusting the vents to direct most of the heat to Pepper's side. Neither of them said anything on the way home; even Morgan seemed quieter than usual, but then again, Tony realized she was probably used to being quiet when Pepper wasn't feeling well. That wasn't going to take much adjusting to; pain management was nothing new, the whole palladium poisoning and Extremis thing not being in the very distant past.

This whole polyamory business, though? _ That _ was going to take some getting used to. Tony flicked on his turn signal, glancing in the rearview mirror to watch Bucky's truck rumbling slowly a little ways behind. He wasn't upset that Pepper had found someone else; he'd told her he wanted her to a few days before he'd flown off into the sunrise to fight a giant space raisin and save the universe. He'd kind of hoped it would be Steve; since, you know, he'd _ trusted Steve to be responsible, _ instead of handing the job off to his best buddy and pulling a Back to the Future to rescue Tony so they could all live happily ever after without him...

A sudden clench in his stomach made Tony realize he was more upset by the idea that Bucky was sleeping with Steve, now that Steve was...

"Daddy, I gotta go potty!"

Morgan's desperate yelp snapped Tony out of his revelations enough to realize that they were home, and Pepper and Morgan were waiting for him to unlock their doors. Scrambling to undo his own seatbelt, he unlocked all the doors and turned around to free Morgan from her car seat. "Brain fart! There you go! Run, run, run!" 

"Thank you!"

Tony shook his head, trying to get his brain back in gear and back on Pepper where he wanted it to be. "What do you need? Car to bed escort? Turndown service? Chocolates on your pillow?"

"Just sleep." Pepper winced tiredly, touching her freezing hand to Tony's cheek for as long as she could before the pain became unbearable. The look of utter hunger in his eyes at the loss of it made Pepper promise herself to do everything she could to touch him as often as possible. "I love you so much, Tony."

"Love you, too, Pep." 

Tony wished more than anything that he could kiss her until her pain magically transferred to him. But he couldn't; the shitty part was that he _ knew _ he couldn't. He could only hover without touching her as he got her settled in bed and wished her sweet dreams. 

When Tony came back downstairs (after listening with rapt attention to Morgan telling him all about her new puzzles) he found Steve in the kitchen putting away the leftover food and getting ready to wash the picnic dishes. Steve glanced up from the sink he was filling as Tony passed, blushing slightly for reasons Tony could only guess at, and hurried to avert his eyes. 

"Bucky around anywhere?"

"In the garage, sir."

Tony tried not to let the respectful tone of Steve's voice stir up any feelings other than avuncular fondness and concern for his welfare. Especially when he could so easily close his eyes and imagine Captain Rogers saying the very same words in a completely different context. _ A kid as young as Steve had no right to have a voice that deep. _

"Is something wrong, Mr. Stark?"

Tony blinked back to himself in a blazing rush of confusion until he remembered he was headed out to chew Barnes a new one. Tossing Steve a quick salute, Tony hurried out the door and slapped a handful of snow in his face to snap himself out of his horny fantasy. Whatever latent feelings he'd had for Steve in the past were one hundred percent off the table until the kid was _ at least _ thirty. 

Tony found Bucky exactly where Steve had said he'd be, wiping down the sleds and snow-tubes with an old towel before putting them away, and quietly whistling some Christmassy tune under his breath. Tony didn't say anything right away, first meandering over to his work table and poking at a couple of loose tools he didn't remember leaving out. 

"Wanna hear something funny?"

Bucky looked up, humming curiously and brushing melting snow off his hands.

"I was informed this morning that, quote: "Stevie and Bucky had a sleepover last night", end quote." Tony leveled a look at Bucky over the table, grabbing a screwdriver and waving it between him and the garage door. "Call me inquisitive, but is there something going on between you two?"

Bucky felt his stomach drop and head give a warning throb; getting into a pissing match with Tony was not the way he'd wanted to spend his afternoon. "Nothing that's any of your business." 

"He's a _ kid _, Barnes."

"He's eighteen," Bucky bristled back. "We were having sex before he got dragged through your time machine. Besides that it's his choice."

"We both know he's not the same."

"No, he's a hell of a lot happier now." Bucky crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "He's… he's doing so much better. I don't see what the big deal is. He saved all our lives, let him do whatever the hell he wants."

"This isn't about what he wants! It's-" Tony pushed away from the table to pace tightly around the room. He was one hundred percent confused and flustered now; he barely even knew what he wanted to say. "It should've been me."

"It _ was _ you, dumbass! That's the whole point!" Bucky couldn't keep his feelings bottled up anymore; between Tony poking at his sore spots, and thinking about Steve setting him up with Pepper, it seemed as good a time as any to let it all out. "It was you, it was me, it was Nat, it was everybody, because he didn't think his life mattered!" 

"Right. And I wouldn't know that because I haven't lived with his self-sacrificing ass for the last decade." Tony snorted and turned back to his tools. 

"Try living with him for a quarter century, then we can talk."

"Speaking of centuries, how old are you anyway? A hundred? Hundred and five?"

"Thirty nine." Bucky chewed his lip until he tasted blood. "I don't count cryofreeze years." 

"All I'm saying is let him be a kid for a while before putting your tragic shared-past shit back on him." Tony's voice was quiet, but Bucky could tell by the depth in his tone how much he genuinely cared about Steve's happiness. "He's got a fresh start. Nobody on this planet, or any other, deserves it more than he does."

_ "I know." _ Bucky finished stacking the sleds behind the remnants of the time machine that had started the whole goddamn mess, and left without looking at Tony again. "I know..."

☆

Back in the house Steve was vibrating out of his skin with anticipation imagining what Bucky had planned for him that night. Just remembering what it felt like to have his hands on Bucky was making him blush so hard his ears were starting to ring.

"Hey, punk." Bucky shuffled into the kitchen where Steve was absentmindedly putting away the dishes, and let out a displeased grunt as he sat heavily in a chair to take off his boots. 

His sour mood did not go unnoticed; immediately setting down the thermos he was drying, Steve pulled out another chair, took Bucky's gloved hand into his lap and gave it a squeeze. "What's going on?" 

Bucky shook his head with a distracted smile. "Nothing. What've you been doing?"

"Thinking about you," Steve blushed and ducked his head to hide a foolish grin. "Just wondering what we're gonna do later."

"Later..." Bucky heaved a sigh that Steve could smell the bullshit on a mile away. "Later we will do whatever you want."

"Hmm."

"We will, I promise."

"Okay, okay, I believe you." Steve held up his hands in surrender, "Just know that it's okay to tell me if you don't feel up for all this. I won't be mad."

"Feel up for it." Bucky groaned and dragged his hands over his face. "I don't know, Stevie, maybe I'm gonna need a cane to prop me up after you finish wearing me out with all of your youthful energy."

"What kind of stick do you have up your ass anyway?" Steve shook his head incredulously. "Golly gee, it's almost like you think you're too old for me or something."

"I am!" Bucky hissed at the throbbing pain in his head and grit his teeth before lowering his voice to just above a whisper, "I am too old for you. I'm too messed up to give you the life you deserve. I'm not a kid anymore, Steve. I'm a hundred year old man whose body hurts on a daily basis, and who can't remember shit from one day to the next, let alone a whole other life from eighty years ago."

"Yeah, you are." Steve's eyes flashed hotly, "And I'm an eighteen year old who's spent his entire life sick in bed just waiting for death to catch up, who can't have sex without his joints falling apart, and who doesn't remember anything from his life before last Sunday. We don't sound all that different to me."

The intensity of Steve's glare cut through Bucky's bruised soul like a knife. He didn't know what to think anymore; he'd pushed his limits too far with the stress of Steve's sacrifice, his drastic change in personality, then having to start rebuilding their relationship from the ground up, on top of everything else. Tony's tirade hadn't brought up anything Bucky hadn't already been thinking about, it'd just forced him to face his problems whether he was ready to or not. 

Bucky didn't say anything, just took Steve's quietly offered hand and let him lead the way upstairs. 

Steve didn't know what kind of hell Bucky had been through, and honestly, he didn't care. He knew Bucky was hurting deeply, in mind as much as body. He knew he couldn't fix what was broken, but he figured he could ease the pain for a little while. 

"Lay down," he ordered gently when Bucky had sunk exhausted into the puffy blue blankets topping his bed. Kicking off his sneakers, Steve climbed up and snuggled in beside him, resting his head over Bucky's slowly beating heart. "Get some sleep, Buck."

"Can't right now." Bucky rolled his head so he could press a kiss to the crown of Steve's warm hair. "Gotta take pills for that, too."

"Mm," Steve hummed understandingly; he had nights like that himself, more often than not. "Want another handy?"

"Punk." Bucky ruffled Steve's hair gently, "You can do whatever you want. I mean it."

"Can I see your arm?" 

Steve's voice was quiet; Bucky's slow exhale was even quieter. He hadn't wanted Steve to see his scarring until he'd had a chance to tell him more about the war, about Hydra... He guessed he wouldn't have to unless Steve asked. 

"Yeah. Sure you can, pal." Pressing another kiss to Steve's head, Bucky tugged his glove off and set it on the nightstand. Steve didn't hesitate to pull Bucky's hand across his chest to examine it; his smaller fingers traced the golden channels and seams with the utmost delicacy and care. Bucky kept perfectly still, holding his breath so he wouldn't disturb Steve's inspection. 

"It's beautiful." Steve said finally, holding his palm flat against Bucky's to compare the difference in size. Their fingers were nearly the same length, but Steve's hand was much narrower, with prominent knuckles and blunt nails. Bucky let his fingers slip down between Steve's, giving them a gentle squeeze. 

"Glad you like it. An African princess made it for me out of the rarest metal on earth."

"You're joshin'."

"Nope." Bucky shifted their hands back and forth a little so the light caught the veins of golden metal to make them shine. "You met her a couple of times. She's a sweet kid."

"Don't remember." He wished he could, but everything beyond his crummy tenement in Brooklyn was a dark blur. The thing that scared him the most was how he was beginning to forget what Bucky's younger face looked like. Almost as if his life before the past few days didn't exist anywhere but in his mind. Suppressing a shiver, Steve started playing with the zipper-pull on Bucky's sweater. "Gonna let me see the rest?"

"Might as well." 

Steve shifted to sit up so Bucky could shed his warmer layers. He'd never seen Bucky shirtless before, except for brief glimpses when they'd changed pajamas in the same room as kids. Steve wondered if Bucky had been as shy as he was, back then. 

"Yeah, um," Bucky was fiddling with the hem of his shirt, his metal hand clenching and unclenching at his side, "I've got a lot of scars, just so… just so you know."

"It's okay, Buck."

Bucky swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut, pulling his henley off in one fluid motion. He stood still and made himself breathe while he waited for Steve to get a good look. 

"Do they hurt?" Steve asked after a few moments of silently taking everything in. Bucky started to shake his head, then he nodded and sank slowly back down on the bed. 

"The scars are numb, but there's some nerve damage, metal reinforcements from my neck down half of my spine and a couple ribs. All of that hurts."

"I'm sorry." The tips of Steve's fingers brushed the metal wrist lightly, closing around it to pull Bucky's hand up to his lips. "You deserve better."

"Not a whole lot of people would agree with you there, but thanks."

"You do." Steve's voice dropped low and rumbly in a way that had always filled Bucky with both comfort and arousal. His hands moved up Bucky's torso, carefully stopping shy of his shoulder on the left, but letting his fingers spread warmly over the right, pushing Bucky down into the softness of the bed. "You deserve so much. I mean, look at you."

Bucky's cheeks heated a little; he'd chosen not to look at himself too closely for a long time. Steve on the other hand was practically eating him with his eyes. Realization began to dawn in Bucky's tired brain that Steve _ liked _ his body; liked everything that he saw. Steve _ wanted _ him.

"You're beautiful, Bucky." Steve said, sliding his hands down to frame the sides of Bucky's thick waist and giving him the slightest squeeze. "Look how soft you are. No sharp corners, no bones sticking out." 

Bucky hadn't even noticed his body changing; HYDRA had kept him bound in a perpetual mass of hard muscle, and afterward, he'd had so much trouble with his digestion and metabolism his weight had been in a constant state of flux for years. He'd been hard, angular, bulky, and underweight, but he couldn't remember ever being _ soft _. 

Bucky felt his stomach squish a little under Steve's lips when he leaned down to press a kiss to it, stroking long lines with the pads of his fingers to watch them sink in and stretch the skin. There was something incredibly sweet about the expression of delight on Steve's face, the complete opposite of how miserable he'd been the last couple of years. Bucky carded his fingers gently through Steve's hair and let himself enjoy the moment. 

The moment. 

The moment. 

There were hands on him. Hands on his stomach. Hands on his chest. Hands on his wrists. They were holding him down. He couldn't move. He wasn't supposed to move. He was supposed to comply. Ready to comply. Ready to comply. Comply. Comply. Comply. Comply… 

"Bucky?"

Steve stroked Bucky's chest again, thinking he'd finally dozed off from being warm and comfortable, but then he realized Bucky's eyes were open. He was staring at the wall over Steve's shoulder, not even blinking. When a trickle of saliva started running from the corner of Bucky's mouth, Steve scrambled off the bed. 

"Buck?"

No answer. 

"Hell." Steve wondered if he should try to cover Bucky's bare chest before he asked Pepper for help, but Bucky's eyes had rolled back in his head and his left arm was starting to twitch. _ "Shit." _

Taking the stairs two at a time, Steve rushed breathlessly into the living room where Tony and Morgan were sitting at the coffee table playing Candy Land. "Where's Pepper?"

"What?"

"Bucky's having some kind of seizure. He told me to get Pepper to call the Compound for help. What's the number?"

"Hang on." Tony tapped his wristwatch twice, and Bruce suddenly appeared in a little projection of light over his left forearm. "Hey, Green Bean, we need medical advice ASAP."

"What's going on?"

After telling Morgan to stay downstairs, Tony followed Steve back up to his room. He didn't make any comments at finding Bucky half naked on Steve's bed, even though he had some real zingers on the tip of his tongue. The twitch in Bucky's arm had spread to the rest of his limbs; Bruce calmly diagnosed it as one of his usual seizures and told them what needed to be done.

Steve's knee was screaming at him from running up and down the stairs, but he gripped Bucky's ankles and helped lift him gently onto the floor, rolling him on his side and brushing the hair out of his face so he wouldn't choke. Tony knelt a little ways away sending Bruce scans of Bucky's vitals, and keeping the live feed going until he stopped shaking. Once Bucky's brain activity stabilized, Bruce gave Steve instructions on what to do when he woke up, and signed off with the promise to help any time either of them needed it.

Collapsing the projection, Tony tapped his watch a few more times and undid the band. "Here, short stuff," he said, tossing the watch to Steve. "Now you don't have to ask for help calling the Compound."

"Thank you." Steve turned the small metal square over in his hand; he had no idea how to work the thing, and the strap was miles too long for his wrist, but he still felt an intense well of gratitude prickling at the back of his throat at Tony's kindness. "I mean it. I don't know what I'm doing here, but..." 

He looked down at Bucky, finally sleeping peacefully with his head resting on a folded blanket so his neck pain wouldn't flare up, his stomach gently rising and falling with every breath. "As long as he's okay... that's all that matters."

Tony nodded and stiffly got to his feet. Taking a couple of steps to the end of Steve's bed, he unfolded a spare blanket and draped it gently over Bucky, then he squeezed Steve's shoulder comfortingly before he turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

"Get some sleep, kiddo. You've earned it."

☆ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter notes: Giving someone the Fuller means giving them the brush off. The phrase is a reference to the Fuller Brush Company.


	6. Friday,  December 22nd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: chapter contains one scene of self masochism

Tony was on his own for breakfast. Between Bucky's seizure, Steve's knee, Pepper's chronic day after, and Morgan wearing herself out playing, Tony was the only one bright eyed and bushy tailed at nine AM. He didn't mind the solitude as much as he thought he would; spending the day with his family, and… friends? Family-slash-friends? Had eased a big chunk of his anxiety and set him up for a relaxing morning of tinkering on Morgan's Christmas present. 

DUM-E was looking slightly less forlorn than he had a few days before when Tony had first rescued him from the depths of the attic. He was miraculously not rusty, and his chip, though completely ruined, Tony had realized was only a backup, not the original. Tony whistled quietly through his teeth as he buffed DUM-E's arm and base plate to a mirror finish. He was actually kind of starting to get excited about the holiday; now that he knew what Pepper needed, and somewhat where he and Bucky stood, he felt that maybe there might be room in his scarred old heart for a few extra gifts, once he gave it some thought. 

Steve's present he already had planned, ordered out of storage, and on it's way, but Bucky's… what the hell did you even give your wife's sort-of-maybe-someday-boyfriend? 

Tony was about to clean up his mess when he heard footsteps on the ladder and threw a hasty sheet over his robot. "Who's that?"

"Oh, excuse me." Steve peeked up through the hatch like the world's sleepiest dormouse coming out of hibernation. "I heard a noise over my bed and wanted to make sure Morgan wasn't trying to climb anything by herself."

"Thanks for checking, but it's just me." Tony wiped his hands on his pajama pants and gathered up his supplies. "I was working on Christmas; so far this is the only part of the house she  _ hasn't _ managed to get into." 

"Sorry for interrupting," Steve let out an enormous yawn, grimacing at the crack in his jaw and rubbing his hip. Tony noticed him limping heavily, too, once they reached the foot of the ladder and he'd closed the hatch for the day. Gesturing to the head of the stairs, Tony waved Steve to head down. 

"Nope, I was just about to make breakfast… well, brunch, technically. Let me put this junk somewhere safe."

Steve watched Tony go with another groggy yawn. He knew he needed to be doing something, but he was damned if he could remember what. Bucky coming up beside him and kissing his temple felt close enough. "Hey, Buck. You okay?"

Bucky nodded, taking half of Steve's weight on his arm and helping him down the stairs. "Okay as I'm gonna be. Thanks for last night; hope I didn't scare you."

"Nah, it's alright. Tony-" Steve blushed as Tony walked in behind them, dressed in a comfortable band t-shirt and jeans. "Mr. Stark, that is, helped me call the Compound."

"First names are fine this early in the morning," Tony said, waving a vague hand while he turned on the coffee maker, "and any other time. Who wants what?"

"I'll make some eggs," Bucky offered, holding the side of his head and gritting his teeth. Steve wasn't sure if Bucky's seizures caused headaches, but he wouldn't be surprised. Wanting to help out, he limped his way over to the fridge and grabbed a loaf of bread. 

"I can make toast if somebody shows me where to plug in the toaster."

"I got it," Tony slipped around Bucky to help get Steve set up, then he pulled out cereal and milk, orange juice, tea, and raspberry jam. "Continental breakfast coming up."

At one point in the proceedings, Morgan wandered down in her princess pajamas and cat slippers, rubbing her eyes and slumping against a table leg until someone noticed her and picked her up. Tony did just that, scooping her into a hug and holding her on his hip while he put the kettle on for Pepper's morning tea. "Aw, you still tired from yesterday, sweetie pie?"

"Uh-huh." 

"Is Mommy up yet?"

"Uh-huh." Morgan nodded, popping her thumb back into her mouth and resting her head on Daddy's shoulder. Tony swayed with her for a few minutes, humming her favorite sleepy song and fixing tea. Steve carried a big plate of toast to the table, and Bucky brought over a pan of eggs on a potholder. "Want cheerios."

"Mmm, how about three bites of egg, and fruit with your cheerios?"

Morgan sighed and rolled her head back so she could look at the table upside down. "Peaches."

"You've got it." Tony slid Morgan off his hip into her chair, and grabbed a single-serving cup of peaches from the cupboard, poured out some cereal, and took the small cup of eggs Bucky passed down the table. "There, breakfast. Yum, yum, eat it up."

Steve giggled tiredly and stuffed his mouth full of buttered toast. Bucky just looked spaced out like he needed about a gallon of coffee to function. Tony took a couple bites of both eggs and toast for himself in between getting Pepper's tray ready. As exhausted as she'd been the previous evening after dinner, he didn't expect her to be leaving bed anytime soon. 

"Gonna go check on Mom, you kids eat up. Bucky, get an aspirin if you need one, 'cause you really look like s-h-i-t."

"Gee, thanks." Bucky groaned and buried his face in the crook of his arm to get away from the sun glaring in through the window. 

"Want one of mine?" Steve asked kindly.

"Got my own," Bucky shook his head, patting his hand along the table until he found Steve's arm and gave it a squeeze, "thanks anyway, pal."

Steve nodded, yawned again and got up to pour himself some coffee. Tony came back down empty handed, and sat himself at the table to finish his own breakfast. "The lady of the house sends her regards."

Bucky saluted and dragged his head up to very quietly put some eggs in his mouth. As much as he loved Steve, there was no way in hell he was trying to crunch through toast with his headache. Tony snorted softly and nudged Morgan's eggs closer. 

"One little bitty bite, just for me?"

"One bite." Morgan held up one tiny index finger, glaring mutinously as she stabbed the eggs with her spoon and shoved them in her mouth. "All done."

"Wow. I know where you get your bargaining skills from."

"Mommy." Morgan stated proudly, slurping the last of her milk from her cereal bowl and carrying it to the sink. She'd eaten every last bite, just like Bucky'd taught her to. Daddy could eat his squishy old eggs by himself. "Are we going to the library today?"

"Ahhhh, I forgot." Bucky groaned, rubbing the tips of his fingers deep into his eyes, "yeah, we'll get you there. I gotta put more gas in my truck, anyway."

"Didn't you just fill that thing?" Tony asked curiously as he munched through Morgan's rubbery, cold eggs. "What's the gas mileage?"

"'Bout fifteen miles a gallon. Less when the road needs plowing."

"Lordy."

"Gets me where I gotta go." Bucky shrugged, collecting his plate and rinsing it in the sink. He gave Steve a quick peck on top of the head on his way past, picking up Morgan and carrying her upstairs so Mommy could help her get dressed for the day. "Come on, squirt; let's get you to the library."

"They do that every week?"

"I wouldn't know." 

Tony looked over at Steve's quiet sigh; he was still watching the stairs where Bucky had disappeared with lonesome puppy eyes. God, the kid was smitten…

"Have any ideas what Buckaroo might want for Christmas?" 

Steve snapped his attention back to Tony, swallowing nervously. "Uh, I don't… I don't know. He hasn't said anything to me."

"Huh. I was just wondering; wanting to make sure everyone got presents. I'm fixing up one of my old robots for Morgan; that's what you caught me doing in the attic."

"A robot?" Steve's eyes went wide. "Like… like a mechanical man?"

"Something like that. This one is just an arm and claw deal, but he's pretty smart, even for somebody named DUM-E." Tony smiled fondly, remembering choosing the name after one of the few other teenagers at MIT had called him a dummy for getting an eighty percent grade on one of his tests. Sixteen year old Tony had started building his robot that night just to show the kid who the real dummy was… over time he'd come to realize that DUM-E was more important to him than competing with some entitled brat with a chip on his shoulder. 

"I'd love to see him when he's ready." Steve said quietly, barely loud enough for Tony to hear. His heart was racing a little, but he told himself it was just palpitations from his coffee. Tony's smile brightening made no difference whatsoever.

"Christmas morning, hopefully. Still needs a day or so of work." Tony took a deep sip of his own coffee, humming thoughtfully. "Think Bucky'd like an upgrade on his truck?"

"How so?" Steve was curious; judging by Tony's car, the future had some pretty swell automobiles. Even Bucky's pickup was more advanced than his pop's old Studebaker. 

"Well, I can get him an electric engine so he won't have to buy gas every other day. Maybe put in seat warmers, new upholstery, Bluetooth; hell, I could just give him a new truck."

"You'd have to ask him." Steve shook his head, not wanting to presume what Bucky wanted to do about his car, if anything. "I haven't even thought about Christmas yet-"

"Ready to go!" Morgan bounced through the kitchen and into Tony's lap. "Gonna come with us, Daddy?"

"You know, I think I'll stay here and take care of Mommy. You have have fun, honey bunch. Read lots of books."

"'Kay! Bye, Stevie!"

"Bye, kiddo, have fun!" Steve blushed at the kiss Bucky blew him and grinned, waving to them both from the kitchen door until Bucky's truck rattled out of sight. When he turned back, the table was clear and Tony had the dishes stacked in the washer. 

"We're cheating today. Go relax, read a book, use the xbox, whatever floats your boat."

Steve chewed his lip a little, "Would it be alright if I borrowed a few of Morgan's art supplies? I promise to replace them as soon as I can get back to town."

"Knock yourself out." Tony waved him away towards the living room. "There's plain paper in the library if you want it, and plenty of grownup pens and pencils." 

"Thank you, Mr… Tony." Steve smiled gratefully, and if Tony felt a little rise in his oxytocin levels as he turned and took the stairs two at a time to check on Pepper, he wasn't going to feel bad about it. 

☆

Steve took Tony up on his offer, wandering into the library and snooping through the desk for something to draw on and a pencil. He really wasn't sure what to give anyone for Christmas; he didn't have money, and he didn't really know the Starks well enough to buy them gifts, anyway. Drawing he could do, though; most people like artwork, didn't they? 

Morgan was easy; she seemed to really enjoy coloring, so Steve did a few simple sketches she could color in; some flowers and birds, rabbits, and one of a snowman like the one they'd made. After inking the lines, he set them aside to dry and stretched his legs out, tapping the pencil against this lips to think. 

He wanted Bucky's gift to be really special; something from their life before that might make him smile… Steve felt his stomach twist a little at the thought; he was forgetting more and more of their life himself every day… 

But Pepper and Tony? Well, a nice portrait of Morgan probably wasn't the worst last minute gift they'd ever had…  _ hopefully _ . 

Steve decided to work on that one first. There were plenty of photographs of Morgan in the library; from baby pictures of her in frilly tights, all the way to recent snaps of she and Tony working on a mechanical project together. 

Steve took one of the small frames down from the bookshelf; Morgan was grinning into the camera after discovering something new and exciting. Steve couldn't help grinning back; the kid was a bubble of energy and enthusiasm; he was glad he'd gotten to spend some time getting to know her… again. 

Pushing his morose thoughts to the back of his mind, Steve got to work. The tip of his tongue slipped out of his mouth as his eyes flicked between the photograph and the lines on his paper. His drawing skills weren't as polished as he'd like them to be, but he'd only had time to take a few fine art classes through the WPA so far. Most of his working hours had been spent making public health posters about the flu.

Steve wrinkled his nose at the memory of the paint fumes, and held his drawing up next to the photo to compare. Not too shabby, actually. A little more work on the proportions and he'd be ready to start shading. Steve worked diligently for another hour, then he set the drawing aside and got up to stretch his legs. His knee didn't feel too bad, but he'd pulled something in his hip, and his ribs hurt a little from being hit by too many snowballs. He wandered around browsing the bookshelves for a few minutes, then he sank down into an armchair and started to fiddle with his watch.

The thing was still on, thankfully; he could see the seconds, minutes and hours ticking away on a bright display in the center. The upper left hand corner had a miniature sun half hidden behind a cloud, and the temperature outside, while the upper right had what looked like the date. Steve tapped on it to see what it would do. A calendar opened up, filling the space with a week's worth of small days and numbers.

"Oh, wow. Gosh, it's already Friday-"

"Yes, Captain, how can I help you?"

"Jesus!" Steve clutched his heart and looked around where he thought the voice had come from. "Who said that?"

"FRIDAY, sir. Would you like me to switch to visual display?" 

"Uh, sure." Steve turned when a square of blue light appeared above his wrist with a three-dimensional star shape rotating slowly in the center. Steve grinned with delight, especially when tapping his finger on the star made it zip over to a large hologram table and expand to ten times its size. "Holy cow, this is incredible." 

"Would you like me to call Dr. Banner?"

"No, thanks, ma'am. I was just trying to figure out how this watch works…" Steve grinned even wider when another idea popped into his head. "Say, can I call Mr. Stark on this thing?"

"One moment." There was a brief pause, then an image of a red and gold helmet popped up simultaneously on both Steve's watch and the larger display. "You have one saved message."

Steve got up to curiously poke a finger at the large helmet shape.

"Hey, Capsicle." 

There was Tony, in a nice suit jacket and t-shirt, sitting backwards on a chair in some kind of laboratory. Something about the scene made Steve's stomach lurch into his throat, but he didn't know why.

"FRIDAY, what's-"

"If you're getting this, then you know why. I know I wasn't the easiest person to live with, but… I just want you to know that you are one of my very best friends. Ever. So I want to ask you a gigantic favor." Hologram Tony took a deep breath; Steve was already holding his so hard his head was swimming. "Pep and Morgan are gonna need someone to look out for them after all this is done."

Steve wanted to look somewhere else, to have FRIDAY stop the message, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. 

"I'd really like that someone to be you. I've had… the most amazing five years, and since that guy who went into the ice never got what he wanted... I know you'll take care of them. As long as they're okay… that's all that matters."

"FRIDAY," Steve felt like throwing up. His body was shaking like he'd run a mile, but his voice was unnervingly still. "Show me everything since 1936."

"I'm not sure Mr. Stark-"

"Everything. Please."

"Yes, sir."

Steve stared at the images flipping through the hologram until his eyes burned. It was all there; the war, the Supersoldier program, the Howling Commandos, the Avengers, SHIELD, HYDRA, Loki, Ultron, Thanos. 

The Winter Soldier. 

"Steve?" 

Bucky's voice. Bucky…

Steve turned and walked past him without meeting his eye, dropped the watch on a table and kept going up the stairs. A few seconds later Bucky heard Steve lock himself in his room. 

_ Fuck. _

Bucky glanced back at the last image floating on the hologram. Black tactical pants, bare chest, bite guard between his teeth, arms clamped to the chair, violently convulsing over and over from a thousand volts of electricity to his brain. 

_ Fuck... _

"Shut it off, FRIDAY."

"Yes, Mr. Barnes."

☆

Steve didn't hear Bucky pass his room that evening; he wouldn't have been able to speak to him, even if he had...

_ He'd seen everything.  _

He'd seen himself in an army uniform, he'd seen a brunette with red lips and fiercely determined eyes. He'd seen a doctor give him a blue injection, a man who looked like Tony put him in a metal box. He'd seen himself come out tall, strong, healthier than he could ever imagine in his wildest dreams. He'd seen the war Bucky talked about; the horror that they'd fought tooth and nail to stop. He'd seen the friends that they'd made. He'd seen himself lying frozen in a block of ice. He'd seen so many scientists he'd lost count.

He'd seen himself fight robots and aliens and gods from other planets. He'd seen himself fighting with Tony and Bruce Banner, with a spaceman named Thor, and an archer named Clint. 

He'd seen himself fighting alongside Natasha and Sam. He'd seen Bucky in a chair. In a frozen tube. In a flying ship, trying to kill him. He'd seen Bucky save his life. 

He'd seen himself fighting Tony. He'd seen why. He'd seen Bucky lose his arm. He'd seen himself slam his shield into Tony's chest. He'd seen the back of himself as he and Bucky walked away. 

He'd seen Wakanda. The footage was blurry, and Bruce was yelling a lot in the background, but he'd seen it. He'd seen himself fight a purple giant. He'd seen Tony do the same. He'd seen them both lose. 

He'd seen space. He'd seen Tony play a game with a blue woman. He'd seen Tony almost die. He'd seen Tony and Pepper's wedding. He'd seen Morgan's first steps. He'd seen an empty place where Natasha was supposed to be. He'd seen himself fighting with his friends for the fate of the universe. He'd seen a woman shoot fireworks from her fists. He'd seen Bucky come back from the dead. 

He'd seen Tony die. He'd seen Tony's funeral. He'd seen Pepper mourn. 

He'd seen himself suffer. He'd seen Bucky in pain. 

He'd seen himself give up everything to bring Tony back. 

Eighty seven years of his own life, and he  _ still _ couldn't remember a goddamn thing...   


☆   


After picking at a dinner he barely tasted, Bucky padded quietly upstairs to his room, pausing for a few minutes outside of Steve's door to listen to the all too familiar sound of tears being muffled in a pillow. 

Shutting himself in his own room, he locked the door and leaned his head back against it. Steve didn't deserve this. Didn't deserve to have those images burned into his brain again. Didn't deserve to be a caregiver for HYDRA's fucked up former asset. 

For the first time in a week, Bucky wished that Steve was still two hundred pounds of hard muscle with no fucks to give. Steve was doing so much better now. At least Bucky had hoped he was; after tonight, he wasn't sure of anything…

The only thing he was sure of, was how much he wished he could ease Steve's pain one more time.

Bucky's clothes fell to the floor unheeded as he stripped down and rolled back the rug by his bed. His heart felt heavy wondering what Steve would think of him, if he could see him...

He positioned his knees over two square-headed nails in the floor a little more than shoulder width apart. He needed to give his brain something to override what he'd seen on the feed. What he'd seen in Steve's eyes…  _ what he hadn't seen… _

Holding his dick flush against his stomach, Bucky tugged sharply at his balls, squeezing and rolling them between his metal fingers until his nose stung and his throat filled with bile. He let them drop heavily into the empty space between his spread thighs, thumbing the head of his dick a few times to keep the pain feedback flowing. Giving it a couple of rough strokes, he let it fall, too.

His nipples were already tight when his fingers reached up to pinch them. They'd always been sensitive to pain; after mind wipes they'd stayed erect for hours, chafing against the inner seams of his tac vest. Now he gave them each a hard twist, digging his fingernails in to leave a set of deep, purple half-moons. 

He let the metal hand slip down to his stomach… he couldn't... not after Steve...

His back and thighs stung with angry red scratch marks by the time he reached his ass, stretching dry over two fingers until he could work his entire fist inside. He knelt in the silence for a long time, not thinking about anything, letting the emptiness of his pain lull him into a false sense of calm he knew wouldn't last. Twisting his hand slowly, he uncurled his fingers, brushing the nails of his right hand against his prostate. 

His legs shook, his forehead came to rest on the floor, his wrist rotated for a better position. The metal thumb rubbed almost lazily at the head of his dick, smearing come down the shaft, down onto his stomach and chest. His vision blurred and darkened, but he fucked himself until he came, again and again and again.

After his body had given all it could, after he was so exhausted and shaking he could hardly stand, he got up, scrubbed himself and everything he'd touched clean with one of Steve's old undershirts he'd been wearing to sleep in, put his clothes back on, and limped silently downstairs like nothing had ever happened.    


☆

When Tony heard Bucky's now familiar uneven gait leave the house, and saw the light from the garage flick on to spill across the moonlit snow, he glanced at his wrist to check the time. It took him a second to remember that he'd given Steve his watch; the same watch he'd seen poking out of Bucky's breast pocket at dinner, the same dinner that Bucky had barely picked at, and that Steve hadn't come down for at all. 

Something about the watch had made them fight...

Tony's heart sank with the realization of what that something probably was, and he hurried to find his jacket. Halfway down the stairs he stopped short, gripping the banister so tightly his knuckles went white.

Bucky would be blaming him. After he'd tried so hard to keep Steve sheltered from the past, after he'd tried to dissuade Bucky from making Steve grow up too quickly, Tony had gone and handed Steve his entire life in a pandora's box with fancy HD holographic display and surround sound. 

_ Shit. _

And this guy; this guy who'd taken on the responsibility of someone else's family, for no other reason than he  _ liked to help, _ this guy who'd lost his life to fucking  _ HYDRA _ for seventy years, this guy who Steve defended against everyone in the world, who Steve  _ loved… _

This guy... Tony realized… he wished, he  _ hoped, _ that Bucky would let him get to know him. That after everything that had happened between them, that they could just… talk. Have a cup of coffee, work on a project, and talk.

Swallowing down a traitorous prickle in his throat, Tony shook off his nerves and finished walking down the stairs. The air was crisp and cold, without a cloud in sight to obscure the stars twinkling overhead as he crunched his way across the yard to the garage, being careful not to step directly in Bucky's bootprints. Through the window he could see Bucky working on something at the lathe, his back turned and shoulders hunched in concentration. Tony waited until the machine was switched off before tapping lightly on the door and sticking his head inside. 

"Is this Santa's workshop?"

Bucky huffed dryly and turned to rummage in a toolbox. "Must be."

"Mind if I join you?"

"Your house."

Tony wilted inwardly but shut the door against the cold night outside, and perched on a stool at the opposite end of the work table, digging the circuit box out of his pocket and continued fiddling with it. Tony watched Bucky for a minute before he realized the tools in his hands weren't familiar. 

"What'cha making?"

Bucky glanced up, his eyes searching Tony's face for a moment before he dropped his gaze and slowly opened his hands. A carving knife, sandpaper, a few scraps of wood, and a piece of knotted string. 

"Morgan's brain teaser puzzles." Tony's heart did a funny little flip he hadn't felt since the day he'd met Pepper; since the first time he'd seen Steve smile. "You made all of them?"

Bucky shrugged, letting his hair fall into his face to hide it. Tony's fingers itched to reach across the table and tuck it behind his ears so he could see the rest of Bucky's face. Instead, he shook his own head and picked up a small screwdriver. "That is amazing. I've never been able to do woodworking. Metal and circuits, no problem. Wood always comes out looking like burnt toothpicks."

"Wood's warm. I guess- I guess that's why I like it." Bucky blushed slightly and ducked his head. He hadn't meant to open himself up like that, to anyone, but that's all he seemed to be doing lately. Fucking himself raw hadn't really helped put him in the greatest mental state, either.

"I can- finish this tomorrow." Bucky stammered, fumbling his supplies back into a neat pile that he hoped wouldn't be in Tony's way. He wasn't sure why the guy was making him feel like an awkward teenager in woodshop class, sneaking peeks at the other boys…  _ aw, fuck... _

"Sorry for bothering you."

"No. Whoa, whoa, whoa. No, hold on." Tony dropped his circuit on the table and scrambled off his stool, holding his hands up in a time-out gesture. 

Bucky looked up with a slight scowl and an irritated huff. He wasn't up to another lecture about how to take care of Steve, or any other kind of lecture, if it came to that. He'd just wanted to work with his hands so his brain would quit spinning for ten goddamn minutes-

"Please." Tony's hands wavered around his shoulders, his entire body from non-threatening posture to wide, brown eyes telegraphing surrender. "I- I wanted to say- I'm sorry about the watch. I forgot to disconnect FRIDAY's memory drive. I never meant for him to see all that."

"I know." Bucky's metal fingers twitched a little against his thigh, and his head gave a minute throb. "It was an accident. He'll be okay."

"No, I know he will. But." Tony blew out a frustrated sigh, "I know how Pepper feels about you. And it's… it's okay. We'll make it work." 

Tony's stomach tightened as he watched Bucky's shoulders go stiff, not rolling back for a fight, but curling inward for a blow. Bucky's fingers had sped up to a rapid tattoo against the side of his leg, his jaw clenching so hard Tony swore he could hear it creak. 

"I know how much you hate me," Bucky graveled, his voice trembling almost as hard as his hand. "You don't have to lie about it."

"I don't. I'm  _ not _ ."

"Why?" Bucky's jaw ached from holding back the tears that had been building up ever since he'd seen the empty look in Steve's eyes earlier. 

"Because… because I'm not that guy anymore. Because I love Pepper, and Morgan, and... hell, I love Steve, too. And they all love you, and I…" Tony took a deep breath, "maybe I could love you someday, who knows. But I definitely do not hate you."

Tony held his breath in the silence that followed his dramatic not-hate confession, barely daring to hold eye contact, let alone move.

Bucky's fists creaked as they tightened at his sides for a long moment, then a single cracked sob broke the stillness. The sound surprised them both; Tony flicked his gaze up to Bucky's face the same instant that Bucky ducked it into his shoulder behind his hair. 

"Hey, no, don't…" 

Bucky flinched, gritting his teeth as another sob shook his body, then another, and another, and there was a hand on his arm, Tony's hand, calloused from hard work and not taking care of himself. But he was there, trying to take care of Bucky; trying to comfort him even though he had to be having a really crappy night of his own. 

"Hey," Tony murmured, just loud enough for Bucky to hear between gasps, "let's just work on Christmas presents, okay? Come on."

Bucky waited for Tony to draw his hand back and return to his project before he lifted his head to wipe his eyes roughly on his sleeve. He took a minute to get his breath back, too, listening to the quiet noises of Tony's fingers rattling tiny screws and pieces of metal. After a few more minutes he walked silently back over to his own end of the table and picked up his last piece of wood. 

"What, um," Bucky started, then stopped, unsure of how to go on from where they stood now. He glanced up; Tony was looking back at him attentively, simply waiting. "What are you working on?"

"This? It's part of a robot." Tony slid back the cover he'd been futzing with so Bucky could see the chip inside. "That's his program, or it will be as soon as I can connect to FRIDAY without Morgan snooping around."

Bucky nodded understandingly, then he dug in his pocket and slid Tony's watch across the table. "This help?"

"Actually… yes." Tony rigged a connector with a scrap of wire and popped the back off of the watch. "Wake up, FRIDAY, it's Christmas. Go find DUM-E's program, will you? Should be somewhere in the Malibu files."

"Sure thing, boss."

"Thanks." Tony smiled over at Bucky, holding his gaze for a moment before they both looked away. "I was thinking about giving Steve a record player, letting him go crazy on dad's old vinyl collection. What do you think?"

"He'd love it." Bucky's face broke into a wide grin. "I was gonna make Pepper some hand warmers."

"God, yes, please do. Her hands are like ice cubes first thing in the morning."

Bucky's smile went shy again, but this time when his hair fell into his face, he tucked it behind his ear and let his shoulders relax into the rhythm of his work.

Tony wondered briefly what it would be like to have Bucky in bed with them in the morning, maybe even Steve, when he was a little older and didn't make Tony feel like a papa hen… or bear, cougar, whatever... 

Well, anyway, there was plenty of time to think about sleeping arrangements later,  _ way later; _ right now time was wasting and he still had a robot to get up and running in two days without one very special,  _ very nosy _ little person finding out.    


☆

An hour later, after several glitches and nicked thumbs, and a couple of shared smiles neither of them admitted to blushing at, Tony held open the garage door while Bucky double checked his pocket to make sure Morgan's present was fully hidden until he could get it wrapped. 

Stepping outside, Bucky inhaled deeply, letting the sharpness of the air clear through the last of his headache. Beside him Tony shivered and blew into his hands. "You want a cup of coffee?"

Bucky grinned, huffing a laugh that crystallized in a puff of steam. "Why not. I wasn't going to sleep anyhow."

"I mean, we could do that, too…"

"Let's start with coffee."

"Good idea."

Tony let Bucky open the kitchen door for him and start the coffee while he ran up to the attic to attach DUM-E's chip, and while he was up there he didn't think once how nice Bucky's ass had looked in the moonlight. 

Well… not out loud, anyway. 

☆


	7. Saturday, December 32rd

The first thing Pepper noticed when she woke up was how much better her mood was feeling after a few days in the fresh air. The second thing she noticed was how much everything else hurt. Swearing under her breath, she rolled her body across the bed and slowly shuffled her way to the bathroom, holding onto furniture and walls as she went. She wondered how Steve was doing; his knee had seemed to be alright most of the day, if a little stiff, but then he hadn't come down for dinner. 

Struggling into a thick hooded sweatshirt, Pepper slowly made her way downstairs for breakfast. Halfway down she heard Tony's snorting giggle and paused to listen. He was telling someone about one of his early electronics projects; how he and Rhodey had snuck into the dean's office at MIT and booby trapped the desk so every time a drawer opened it would make a loud farting noise. 

The warmth of the laughter following the story made Pepper's heart race. Bucky was down for breakfast, with Tony, and having a nice bonding moment by the sound of it. 

"That story changes every time you tell it, Tony." Pepper poked fondly, as Tony sprang to his feet to get her a cup of tea and a plate of waffles from the oven. Bucky quickly swiped something colorful off of the table into his lap with a grin. 

"One lovely breakfast for one lovely lady." Tony bowed and set his wife's place setting with a small vase of miniature pink roses and baby's breath along with her tea and waffles. "Anything else I can get you, madam?"

"One more thing," Pepper pulled Tony closer until she could give him a long kiss. "Love you three thousand."

"Wow. I should take you sledding more often."

"You really should." Pepper smiled sweetly, letting her gaze linger on the relaxed lines of her husband's shoulders as he sat back down across from Bucky, who'd looked away with a faint blush. "Where's Steve this morning?"

Bucky bit his lower lip, glancing toward the stairs. "He... isn't feeling too great." 

"My fault." Tony added quickly, "He got an eyeful of FRIDAY's video archives last night. Saw a hell of a lot more than he was ready for."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Pepper's brows knit together in sympathy above her steaming mug of tea. It took a moment for the gist of Bucky and Tony's comments to form a complete picture, but when they did she set her cup down with a sharp  _ thunk _ . "You mean he hasn't eaten anything since  _ yesterday?!" _

Bucky shrugged in exasperation. "He said he wasn't hungry. What was I supposed to do? Force a waffle down his throat?"

"Of course not!" Pepper rose from her seat and crossed the kitchen to grab another mug from the cupboard. "Just keep checking on him until he's ready to eat!"

"I did!"

"Well, now I am!" 

Bucky and Tony watched Pepper fill a second mug with tea and load them both onto a breakfast tray. Tony stepped in to help her carry it, but Pepper's independent glare made him raise his hands and let her do whatever she wanted. A minute or so later, they heard Steve's door open and close. When Pepper didn't come back down right away, Tony shrugged.

"I guess she got him to drink, at least."

"I'm glad." Bucky swallowed the last of his coffee thickly, and brought his sewing project back up on the table. "Always scares the hell out of me when he does that."

"Often?"

"Often enough."

Tony hummed understandingly and picked up Bucky's cup to get them both a refill. "Better check on Morgan; see that she hasn't gotten lost in Santa's workshop."

"She said no peeking."

"Well," Tony smirked, exaggerating holding a hand over his eyes and feeling for the doorway to the living room where his daughter had mysteriously disappeared right after finishing her breakfast, "I guess I'll just have to leave that to you."

☆

Steve was miserable. His head hurt from crying, his eyes hurt from crying, his throat hurt from crying, even his  _ nose _ hurt from crying. His stomach kept growling, too. So far he'd managed to ignore it for approximately… twenty two hours, give or take, but he knew sooner or later he'd have to eat something if he didn't want to pass out. 

Hearing a shuffling-clatter in the hall, Steve rolled his eyes and made himself sit up so he could tell Bucky to go away...  _ again _ . A light knock on his door set Steve's teeth on edge and his temples pounding. 

"I told you, I'm fine, Buck."

"Steve? It's Pepper. I brought you some tea."

Well, that... wasn't who he'd been expecting. 

Steve got stiffly to his feet, wobbled a couple steps to his door and opened it, leaning heavily on the frame and hiding a wince of pain with a polite smile. Pepper waved one hand towards the bed for him to sit back down. "I appreciate the chivalry, Steve, but please rest your knee."

Steve stayed standing until Pepper had placed her tray on top of the nightstand and sat on the end of his bed with her own cup. Steve blushed at the state of his rumpled covers, and even more himself. "Sorry for the mess, ma'am."

"Please call me Pepper."

Steve took the mug she was holding out for him and sat down a little ways away on the bed, gingerly flexing a cramp out of his leg from lying with it curled up all night. "Pepper. Thank you for the tea. I should've been up earlier."

"It was no trouble at all." Pepper's smile was as kind as always, but Steve could see, and certainly sympathize with, the effort it was taking her to keep it up. "How's your knee?"

"Not too bad." Steve paused to wiggle his toes, then he added, "it's still a little stiff."

"I heard you had a pretty bad shock last night." Pepper took a bracing sip of her tea, silently encouraging Steve to do the same. The warmth of it surprised him when he did; a hint of spice as well as heat that he felt slowly soothing his upset stomach and creeping into his bones. 

"Mind if I ask what kind of tea this is?"

"Blood-orange with ginger and raw honey. It's nice isn't it?"

Steve nodded and took another long sip. "It sure is." 

Pepper grinned brightly, and Steve couldn't help but return it. From what he'd seen of the film archive the previous night, he and Pepper had known each other for a long time. He just wished he had some kind of good memory to share with her, if only to keep their pleasant conversation going for a little while longer. 

"How, um… how's Morgan this morning?"

Pepper's face broke into another infectious grin. Steve hoped the bubbling laugh that followed it was one she had cause to use often. "I was informed very early that she's making presents today. None of us are allowed to peek."

"I'll keep that in mind." Steve chuckled and took another sip of tea. He knew he hadn't answered Pepper's original question yet, mostly because he still wasn't sure if he could talk about the whole thing without busting out crying again. But he guessed… he guessed there was one thing he could ask her. "Were Tony and I friends, before?"

"You were…" Pepper drew in a long breath, biting her lip while she searched for the right word. "You were very close. You fought a lot; you were both so stubborn; but you cared about each other very much." 

"Oh." Steve's heart dropped; he'd hoped Tony was someone who'd liked him… at least a little.

"Tony will always be your friend, Steve, even if he doesn't always remember to say it." 

"I uh…" Steve murmured, his ears burning slightly; he'd nursed his mug of tea nearly to the dregs and couldn't think of anything else to say. "I guess I should tidy up."

Steve got to his feet to stall any further conversation that might embarrass them both. Pepper nodded and took the mugs, and he escorted her to the door. "Thanks for the tea, Pepper. Can I take those downstairs for you?"

Pepper smiled softly and shook her head; she hoped she'd helped Steve feel a little less miserable, if nothing else. "I've got it. And you're welcome to more tea anytime." 

Steve watched her walk slowly to the head of the stairs; when he was sure she was going to be alright, he quietly shut his bedroom door and got to work making his bed. His mind was still full, but he was done moping. He'd realized some things talking to Pepper; things that had been tugging at his mind since he'd seen the feed; things he needed to make right. 

And as much as he dreaded it, making things right meant facing Bucky.

☆

It took Steve hours to be ready to talk to Bucky. Between eating a couple square meals, helping with chores, and playing with Morgan, he hadn't found the right time to talk. Now that dinner was over, and the house was silent, all he had was time. 

Steve took a deep breath, letting it flow out past his lips as his knuckles rapped quietly on Bucky's bedroom door. Bucky answered a few seconds later, his brows raising slightly with surprise when he found Steve standing there.

"Hey."

"Hey," Bucky murmured softly, "you okay?"

"Yeah. I just…" Steve looked down at his socks, scrunching his toes in the hallway runner so he didn't have to look at Bucky just yet. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," Bucky took a step back so Steve could come in. He left the door slightly ajar, letting Steve decide how much privacy he wanted. "Bed's comfy, if you wanna sit."

"Thanks."

Bucky watched Steve close the door before sinking down at the foot of his bed. Bucky settled in himself, grabbing a pillow into his lap to hug; when Steve wiggled his fingers at the pile, Bucky passed him a pillow, too.

"So, um," Steve started hesitantly, squeezing his pillow tight, "I saw… a lot. More than you probably wanted me to."

Bucky winced. "I'm sorry."

"Don't you dare apologize to me." Steve's voice was still calm and quiet, but his eyes were flashing in a way that made the hairs on Bucky's neck rise. "Not for that; not for any of it. It was my fault. I should never have let you go with me."

"Heard that one a million times already, pal." Bucky blew out an irritated sigh, lifting his eyes to the ceiling for patience. "You've been through just as much as me, Steve. And you never… you never let yourself be human. You're always so wrapped up in sacrificing yourself for other people, you can't deal with the fact that shit just happens sometimes."

"But-"

"No. No buts. You wanted us to talk; you're gonna hear my side of it."

Steve worked his jaw tightly, but he kept his mouth shut. 

"Life happens. It's hell. It's people making choices that affect other people. Sometimes those choices are horrible. But not a  _ single, goddamn, one, _ has ever been your responsibility." Bucky shook his head. "I watched you trying to make up for your dad being gone since you were ten. I watched you trying to save your mom from a disease with no cure. I watched you try to join the army five times. I've watched you risk your life, I've watched you almost die. You jumped on a grenade. You crashed a plane full of bombs. You jumped out of a plane without a parachute. You let me beat the crap out of you just because you believed I was worth saving. I have loved you for almost thirty years, and I am so sick of you trying to save everyone in the world except yourself."

Bucky watched Steve's jaw twitch as he looked away. There wasn't really anything else to say, nothing he believed Steve would accept, anyway. Bucky looked down at the mess of torn fabric and stuffing he'd made of his pillow. Too bad relationships weren't as easy to mend...

"I don't… remember any of it. At all." Steve said at last. His voice sounded thicker than Bucky had thought it would be. Then again, this Steve had never lived through half of the things Bucky had just chewed him out for. "It was like watching someone else's life. I don't feel… like that was me, even though it obviously was, but…"

"I get it," Bucky said quietly, "I barely remember… half of what I did for HYDRA. Almost nothing before that. I can't… I remember your mom's name, some of my sisters, but I can't even remember what my favorite song was, or where we used to go to church, or my first job, or what my parents looked like."

"Does it ever stop feeling wrong?"

"Not really." Bucky shrugged. "Sometimes it won't bother me at all for a long time, but then I'll smell something or hear something and I'll slam into a blank space in my head and get stuck."

Steve hummed in understanding; he'd been doing nothing but slamming into blank walls all week. How Bucky'd been doing it for years without going nuts was a skill he was dreading needing to learn. 

"Hey," Bucky murmured, gently nudging Steve's shoulder to make him look up, "I'm sorry for snapping. That wasn't fair."

"Don't worry about it. I probably deserved it." Steve's self deprecating grin made Bucky roll his eyes, but then Steve elbowed him in the ribs and snorted. "You ain't exactly a peach to live with, either, buddy."

"Do tell."

"Well let's see." Steve held up his hand so he could list things off on his fingers. "You're just as stubborn as me. You're bossy. You're as selfless as they come. You spend too much money on gifts for people you like. If your heart was any bigger they'd be able to see it from the moon. And to top it all off..." Steve took a deep breath; he didn't know jack about how his past self had treated Bucky, but he sure as hell wasn't making the same mistakes twice, "I love you."

Bucky's eyes going wide and filling with tears confirmed everything that Steve had guessed, and told him more than he'd wanted to know. Moving slowly, he reached up to cradle Bucky's damp cheek in his hand. "I'm sorry it took me so long to say it. I don't wanna forget to tell you again. Ever. You… you're my whole life, Buck. I love you so… so much I can't..."

Bucky's eyes squeezed shut and his shoulders started to shake. Steve scooted closer and hugged him tight. Even when Bucky's arms around his ribs felt like the life was being crushed out of him, Steve didn't let go. 

"Love you." Bucky's voice was shaking so much he could barely breathe, "Love you. Stevie. Love you, love you, love you."

"Love you, too, Bucky."

Steve snuggled his head into Bucky's chest. He didn't want to think about anything he'd been, or done, before he'd come out of that time machine. Even if he forgot everything he knew of his life before then, forgot his mother, forgot Bucky's family, forgot how good Bucky looked and smelled on a Sunday morning in church; it would hurt like hell, but he was willing to do it. He loved Bucky now, in the gray, hopeless world they'd ended up in; in  _ the future _ . He wanted to spend what time he had with Bucky before the next disaster hit, whenever that might be.

There in his arms, Bucky was still Bucky, still warm and solid and doing his best to keep life from hurting the one person he loved more than life itself. With his eyes closed Steve could imagine they'd always been together; that he'd told Bucky sooner, that Bucky'd kissed him the first time he'd wanted to, that they'd been making time with each other instead of letting time tear them apart. Turning his head, Steve pressed a kiss to Bucky's right bicep, feeling the give of warm, sweater covered skin under his lips. Bucky squeezed him tighter and kissed the top of his head, inhaling a breath of Steve's light scent. Under his lips he felt Steve's body jerk, and heard him hiss under his breath. 

"That your knee?"

"No, my arm."

"Throw too many snowballs?"

"Ha ha, haaaha  _ fuck _ ." Steve wiggled out of Bucky's grip so he could sit up. His palm was cramping so hard he could barely open his hand. Bucky sat up, too, instantly on high alert. 

"Has your hand always been that white?"

"Mm-mm." Steve shook his head hard, biting his lip and closing his eyes against the pain. The cramp had spread to his forearm and was steadily creeping up towards his armpit. The last time he'd had a Charley horse that bad he'd been twelve years old and going through a growth spurt. Steve whimpered as Bucky jostled the bed and dashed across the room to rummage through his spare pants pocket. 

"Where's that damn phone... hang on, I'm calling Bruce." 

"He's not there. He's- he's on his way to the hospital. For Christmas."

"Crap, I forgot." Bucky ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up in a frantically disheveled mess. Steve would have laughed if he wasn't in so much pain. "I'm calling him anyway. Or you want to go to the clinic?"

"No." Steve shook his head. "No, Bucky, please just come back to bed and hold me. It'll pass."

"You sure?" Bucky set his phone within arm's reach on the nightstand, and crawled into bed from the opposite side so Steve would only have to roll into his chest when he was ready. 

"I'm sure. It happens a couple times a day. Not usually this bad, but…"

"What is it?" Bucky propped his head up on his right hand, lying on his side with his left rubbing small, comforting circles into Steve's lower back. Steve swallowed thickly, looking away as he turned his body towards Bucky and pulled up his sleeve. 

" _ Shit... _ " Bucky's voice went low and quiet, almost too quiet for Steve to hear. With everything that had been going on he'd completely forgotten about the damage from the gauntlet; and then with Steve's other health problems coming back one after another… "Do the scars hurt?"

"A little," Steve admitted. The cramp had finally begun to pass, enough that he could uncurl his fingers and let them fall open in his lap. "I've had worse."

"You never should've gone back alone." 

Steve shook his head, rubbing a little more feeling into his hand and stretching his fingers. "That's not fair, Buck. A lot of people laid down their lives; I had no right to do any less than try to bring them back."

"'Cause it wasn't about you?"

"Well, was it?"

Bucky closed his eyes; there were just some arguments they were never going to settle. And maybe… maybe that was okay. "No… I guess it wasn't." 

Steve glanced up, still kneading his thumb into his palm and looking as surprised as Bucky felt. He didn't comment, but as soon as he could move without some part of his body breaking on him, he curled up in Bucky's arms. When Bucky reached over to turn off the light, he pulled Steve close, hooking one leg behind Steve's good knee and giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead. 

Steve hunkered down, mushing his face in the softest part of Bucky's chest and heaving an exhausted sigh as he made himself try and get some sleep. 

☆


	8. Sunday, December 24th

Christmas eve day dawned gray and gloomy, but at least Steve didn't wake up alone. Bucky was already awake, or maybe hadn't slept yet, judging by the dark half-circles under his eyes. He gave a tired smile when Steve groaned and tried to burrow away from the sun into his armpit. 

"Mornin' sleepyhead."

"Nurrrrgh."

Bucky gave the top of Steve's head a kiss, then he started rubbing his back to wake him up. "Gotta go make breakfast. You wanna sleep in?" 

Steve shook his head, dragging himself groggily up from the depth of Bucky's armpit to face the day. "I can help. I can help..." He yawned wide until his jaw cracked loudly, and he rolled out of bed. "I'm up."

Bucky couldn't help feeling his heart swell with love watching Steve stumble around the room looking for his socks and opening curtains, half-awake, rumpled, messy haired, but absolutely perfect. 

"Beautiful."

"Huh?" Steve squinted, hopping on one foot trying to get his socks on. Bucky just grinned at him and got up to make the bed. Steve readjusted his knee brace and poked his head out into the hallway. "I think someone beat you to making breakfast."

Smoothing his comforter over the pillows, Bucky joined Steve by the door, taking a deep sniff. "Whatever it is it's burnt. Better go check on 'em."

Bucky jogged quickly down the stairs while Steve took a minute to use the bathroom and wash his face. When he made it to the kitchen he found Bucky at the stove, with a frazzled looking Tony hovering at his elbow. 

"I don't know what I did wrong. It's  _ lasagna _ . You just reheat it."

"In the  _ oven _ , not on the stove on high heat."

Steve exchanged glances with Morgan, who was sitting at the table with a box of cold cereal. "Your dad can't cook?"

"Nope."

"Ah." Steve nodded, "You want some milk with that?"

Morgan shrugged, letting out a bored yawn. Giving the lasagna fiasco a wide berth, Steve found bowls, spoons, and milk, and sat down next to her at the table. 

"Got all of your presents made?"

"Haven't done Mommy's yet."

"Oh. What are you gonna make?"

Morgan shrugged again. Steve poured them both some cereal and milk, and dug into his bowl. "Well, what about a nice coloring picture?"

Morgan shook her head.

"Hm. Is there something she likes that she doesn't get very often? Like flowers, or candy?"

Morgan took a bite of cereal, chewing slowly before she shook her head again. Steve let her work on her cereal for a few minutes while he gave the problem some thought. Over at the stove Bucky had relegated Tony to scrubbing down his burnt frying pan while the oven was pre-heating. Steve blushed a little at the mental image of making a real nice home with Bucky; of making breakfast together every morning, waking up together, going to bed together,  _ doing other things together… _

"Can you help me make cookies?"

Steve blinked back to reality at Morgan's insistent tug on his sleeve. "Cookies? Sure we can make cookies. What kind would you like?"

"Gingerbread people."

Steve grinned, gently tugging one of Morgan's messy curls in return. "As soon as breakfast is all done. You and me."

Steve would swear on his life that the look Tony and Bucky gave him when Morgan scrambled into his lap to give him a hug could've melted a whole damn glacier. 

"Thanks, Stevie."

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

☆

Just like he'd promised, Steve shooed Bucky and Tony out of the (sparkling clean) kitchen after breakfast and helped Morgan make cookies. They'd talked a little more about feelings, about how much Mamas getting sick made them sad. Steve didn't tell the whole truth about his Ma, but he felt he'd said enough to help Morgan feel heard and understood. And somewhere along the way, if he felt his own grief easing just a little, that wasn't such a bad thing, either. 

Morgan swayed excitedly on her chair with her elbows propped on the table, watching Steve put the last finishing touches on his gingerbread people. She'd already decorated hers; one for Mommy, one for Daddy, one for Bucky, one for Stevie, and one for the puppy she really, really,  _ really _ hoped she was gonna get for Christmas. 

"There." Steve said, standing back with a satisfied smile as he wiped his hands on a dishcloth. "Now we just need to let the icing get hard for a couple hours." 

"But what if everybody sees them before Christmas?"

"Tell you what; I'll watch them for a few more minutes, then I'll put them in a container in the fridge so no one will look at them. That be okay?"

"Yeah." Morgan hopped down from her chair and stretched up to drop her icing-tasting spoon in the sink, then she gave Steve another hug around the leg. "Love you five thousand."

"Wow, that is a whole lot. I love you five thousand, too."

"Stevie loves me five thousand!"

Steve watched Morgan tear off through the house with a bewildered chuckle, then he shook his head and got on with tidying up the mess. After a few minutes the noise quieted down and a contented stillness settled over the house. Steve breathed a sigh of relief he hadn't realized he'd been waiting to. Outside the window the sun was already starting to drift away from its zenith; in a couple more hours it would be dark. Christmas Eve, of all things; as if the past week hadn't made him forget all about it. 

"Smells good in here." Bucky sidled up behind Steve at the sink, slipping his arms around Steve's tiny waist and nestling his nose in Steve's warm collar. Steve shivered a little and leaned back into Bucky's chest, drying his hands so he could hug Bucky's arms tighter. "Doing okay?"

"Sure." Steve let Bucky sway them back and forth a little, then he touched one pruney hand to Bucky's cheek. "Buck?"

"Hm?"

Steve bit his lip, gazing out at the trees surrounding the Stark's property; shielding it from the outside world. "What's gonna happen now? I mean… after Christmas, do we live at the Compound? Or…"

Bucky breathed out a slow sigh through his nose. Steve tried not to squirm at the feeling of humid air trickling down his neck. "Been wanting to talk with you about that… How well do you like Pepper?"

"Well enough. Why?"

Bucky's left arm shifted slightly, and he started slowly rubbing Steve's ribs with his thumb. "Would you mind if we stayed here to look after her?"

Steve lifted his head in alarm. "Is she that sick?"

"No. I mean, she is sick, but…" Bucky drew his lower lip into his mouth to chew it. Steve could tell he was choosing his words carefully; not the most encouraging sign from a guy who had to take things slower than molasses. Realization dawned on Steve the same moment Bucky opened his mouth to speak. 

"You… Buck, she's married."

"No. I know." Bucky's hand slowed to squeeze under Steve's ribs. "It's called polyamory. It just means more than two people in a relationship. Tony's okay with it."

Steve swallowed lightly, not sure if the uptick in his heart rate was from nerves or something else. "Does that mean we can't… have this anymore? Or... are you gonna…"

"Look at me, honey."

Steve made himself turn around to look straight up into Bucky's eyes. 

Bucky's hands around his waist held him tight; the sincerity in his gaze held him even more. "I will always love you first. Nothing we do is gonna change."

"But something will?"

Bucky shrugged his right shoulder slightly. "Maybe. Maybe nothing will. I don't know yet, but if it does we're going to figure it out together. All of us."

Steve let out a shaky breath and nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face in Bucky's chest. He wasn't ready for things to change again, but he guessed he hadn't really had that choice in a long time…

"Hey," Bucky said at length, giving Steve a final squeeze and a kiss on the head, "think you can get cleaned up in an hour?"

Steve heaved a sigh, slowly peeling himself away from Bucky's body like tearing off a bandage. "Yeah, why?" 

Bucky shook his head with a slight smile, leading Steve toward the stairs. "Come on, you're getting your present early."

Steve wanted to roll his eyes, but he let Bucky drop him off at his bedroom door and did as he'd been asked. He really just wanted to go back to bed, maybe sleep through Christmas entirely, maybe not wake up until Bucky and the others figured themselves out without him…

But what if they did figure things out without him? What if Bucky decided to be with Pepper instead of him? What if Tony really was okay with sharing? What if they wanted him to leave? 

Steve's throat tightened with an even more complicated thought; what if… what if they wanted him to stay? To join them? Bucky'd called it polyamory; multiple people in love. Could he love more than one person at a time? Could he share Bucky so soon after just starting a relationship with him? 

He could still feel vividly how much his heart had broken seeing Bucky cry when he'd said he loved him. He couldn't… he really didn't know if he was ready to share… 

Steve's mind churned as he showered and dressed, brushed his teeth, and made his hair presentable. He wasn't sure what Bucky had in mind, but he wanted to give the best effort he could to make him happy. Hearing the sounds of Bucky talking with Pepper and Tony in the living room, Steve bottled up the confused butterflies in his stomach and went down to join them. 

The utterly smitten look on Bucky's face when he stepped into the room made every second of fussing worth it. "Oh wow… you look nice." 

Steve blushed, not sure where to hide his face. He wasn't dressed up fancy, in his new gray sweater, jeans, and red sneakers, but he supposed he looked spit-shined at any rate. Bucky, on the other hand was making his heart race, in a cranberry hued shirt that clung to his frame in all the best ways, a pair of crisp jeans that did the same, gray suede shoes, and a buttery soft, black leather jacket. 

"Hey." Steve smiled crookedly, stuffing his hands in his pockets to try and keep his palms from sweating. "So, what's the big occasion?"

"You'll see." To Steve's surprise, Bucky turned his back on Pepper and Tony, nudging Steve toward the kitchen door. "Grab your coat."

"Okay…"

Once they were outside, Bucky made his way over to his truck and opened the passenger side door. "After you."

"You're not gonna tell me, are you?"

"Nope."

"Jerk."

Bucky just smirked and waited for Steve to get in. Steve huffed a little for show, but he was actually starting to get worried. Bucky's surprises weren't always as well planned out as he thought they were; making Steve ride the Cyclone with him right after lunch being a vivid example. Bucky noticed his nervous thumb-twiddling a few miles down the road, and reached over to give Steve's hands a gentle squeeze. 

"I was thinking about your mom last night."

"Yeah?" Steve swallowed; he kept his eyes on his hands, but he still caught Bucky's nod from his side vision. 

"It's been a long time since I got to pay my respects. I thought… I thought it might be nice to light a candle for her."

"That where we're going?"

"If you want to." Bucky didn't take his eyes off the road, but Steve knew he would stop and turn right back if Steve so much as said the word. "If you want to go somewhere else, or just drive around looking at Christmas lights..."

Steve drew in a long breath and shook his head. "No, I'd like that… Thanks."

Bucky squeezed his hand again and turned at the next intersection. 

☆

The church was nearly empty when they arrived, whether because Mass wouldn't start for another few hours, or because so many people had lost their faith over the years, Steve didn't know. He noticed Bucky hanging back a little as he crossed himself, genuflected and slipped into a pew to pray. Bucky sat beside him, quietly gazing at the altar while Steve knelt and closed his eyes. The still air smelled the same as it always had; like wood polish and candle smoke, old stone floors and dust, and the lingering scent of a dozen other people kneeling in the same place every day. 

Steve said the same prayers his ma had taught him to say for his dad when he was little and wondering if God ever heard him. He said them for her because she'd believed that God had a plan for everyone. Gazing up at the ceiling high above him, he still wondered if that was all the farther his prayers went; then he figured he hadn't much cared for a long time. 

Slipping quietly out of his pew, Steve genuflected out of habit and respect, made his way up to the statue of the Blessed Mother and lit two small candles. He watched them for a moment, flickering amongst a sea of melted wax and light. The warmth he felt when Bucky came up behind him to light his own candle was more comforting than any empty prayers had ever been. Bucky slipped an arm around his waist, silently giving him all the support he needed. 

"Mass starts in a bit, if you wanna stay."

Steve shook his head; there wasn't anything in his life at that moment that sitting through a church service would fix. "Let's go look at lights."

"Okay."

Bucky let Steve lead the way, silently crossing himself with holy water one last time as he slipped outside into the cold. Bucky pulled the collar of his jacket higher around his ears, for the moment not nagging at Steve to fasten his coat. When they were back in the truck, Steve turned and gave him a watery-eyed kiss on the cheek. 

"Thanks for the present."

Bucky returned the kiss gently to Steve's temple; he was aching to pull Steve into his lap and hold him, but he wasn't sure Steve was up for it. "Anytime you want to come out, I'll drive you."

"Yeah." Steve swallowed, looking back down at his fingers laced tightly in his lap. "I don't think I'll be coming back for a while." He let out a small breath; Bucky nodded understandingly. 

"You gotta see the light show some of these rich houses put on." Bucky turned his key in the ignition, grinning brightly so Steve wouldn't stay in his head too long. "Biggest damn power bill you ever saw."

Steve snorted and wiped his eyes on his hands. Jostling Bucky's elbow, he squinted at the dashboard controls trying to remember which one turned on the radio; Bucky pointed to the right switch and Steve found the station he wanted. 

_ Gone away is the bluebird. Here to stay is the new bird. He sings a love song, as we go along, walking in a winter wonderland. _

The song made Steve smile despite his sniffly nose and sore throat. He'd recognized it a few days before, when he and Bucky had been doing crafts with Morgan. They'd listened to the radio for almost three hours; long enough for Steve to memorize several new songs as well as his old favorites.

Bucky slowed the car and pointed out Steve's side window at an amazingly garish display of lights. Red strings overlapped with green strings, inflatable Santas crowded the lawn beside herds of reindeer and an army of snowmen; even a horde of elves peered from every crevice of the front porch. 

"Wow."

"Some folks really go all out." Bucky nodded to another equally electrified house down the street. "That one has a thing for model trains. And one on the next block starts decorating the day after Halloween."

"Is it a competition or something?" Steve remembered the big department stores in the city scrambling to outdo each other every holiday season. Not quite as extravagantly as these houses, but pretty darn close. 

Bucky shook his head and slowly continued down the road. "They're just trying to feel normal. So many people stopped celebrating holidays after the Snap." 

"Did we celebrate any holidays, before?"

In his heart, Steve truly doubted he'd ever thought twice about anything but fighting once he'd gotten the serum, but he hoped for Bucky's sake that they'd made a few good memories along the way. Bucky's lips quirked into a smile that hurt worse than any frown ever could. 

"We had some fun times during the war. One Christmas some of the guys on our team found a box of champagne and cheese. Got drunk off their asses; we had to roll 'em around in the snow to sober up." Bucky chuckled at the memory, and turned the car down another street. Steve noticed he hadn't mentioned the short time they were together before the Snap... 

"Can we go back to the Compound?"

Bucky glanced over at him curiously, but he did a slow U-turn in the middle of the road and headed back the way they came. Steve didn't meet his gaze on the drive; he kept his eyes on his own fingers, twisting and cracking his knuckles one by one until they felt like they were going to break. 

The Compound was dark when they arrived, except for a couple of lights left on to deter looters. Steve tried his best to remember some small scrap of his and Bucky's life there as he stepped down from the truck and looked up at the stars just beginning to come out from behind the clouds.

"Peaceful out here."

Steve glanced at Bucky from the corner of his eye; the lines of his shoulders were softer than they had been for days, his smile as he gazed up at the stars was easy and untroubled. Steve's heart gave a hard thump behind his ribs; how had there ever been a moment in his life when he hadn't loved this guy...

"Will you show it to me?" Steve asked quietly, pointing to the main building. "I was kind of out of it last time. Didn't get to do much exploring."

"Sure, punk." Bucky held out his hand for Steve to take. Meshing his fingers with Bucky's felt like coming home. 

"So," Bucky announced, leading Steve to a small room with several desks full of computer equipment, "here's the comm room; Carol and Sam run all kinds of missions from here. You've already seen the med bay. Kitchen's at the other end of the hall. Bathroom's off the common area. Bedrooms are all upstairs, and what stuff we could salvage from the wreck is in the storage building."

Steve hummed, turning in place to take in the whole of the room. "Nice place. What's the common area like?"

"I'll show you." Still holding his hand, Bucky tugged him across the hall to a large room with two overstuffed couches that had seen better days, a small table and chairs, and a huge flat-screen on the longest wall. 

"Is that another computer?"

"Television," Bucky grinned wide, "it's like going to the pictures, but there's all kinds of stuff you can watch on it."

"Like Tony's phone?"

"Exactly."

"That's incredible." Steve's eyebrows disappeared under his bangs, suitably impressed. He definitely wanted to check out the television some time, but at the moment he had other things to think about. "Where's our room?"

"Up there." Bucky pointed to a set of stairs next to a small elevator, then he led Steve up to the next level, and down another short hall. Near the back of the building he unlocked a metal door by tapping a set of numbers into a keypad. A small green light on the lock flashed and beeped, and Bucky turned the handle, letting Steve walk in first. "Home sweet home."

Steve listened to Bucky walk around tidying the place up as he slowly looked around. It was… worse, than he'd imagined. Cold, physically cold with only one small heater collecting dust in the corner. Even the blankets on the bed looked like they belonged in a hospital; flat woven and threadbare in places. Even more hospital-like was the underlying scent of antiseptic that clung to every flat surface in the room. 

_ There wasn't even any color on the walls… _

"Got something on your mind, pal?" Bucky's question wasn't as lighthearted as he'd tried to make it sound; after the excitement of showing Steve around downstairs had worn off his mood had started to drop. 

Steve swallowed, hanging his head to scuff his toe at a circular crack in the linoleum. "I just… wanted to see what our life was like here. If it was as bad as… as I thought it was." 

"It wasn't bad, Steve." Bucky sighed tiredly and sat down on the edge of the bed, the last of his earlier peace draining out of him in a slump. "We were as happy as we could be. That's how we've always been; whether it was the Depression, or the war, or fighting HYDRA, or rebuilding after the Snap. We're survivors, it's just what we do."

"I know I didn't treat you right." Steve forced himself to look up into Bucky's eyes. "I  _ know _ . I just… want to fix it, if I even can. I don't know how…"

"C'mere, baby." Bucky opened his arms so Steve could step into his chest. He held Steve tight, burying his own face in Steve's shoulder and sighing deeply. "I don't care what you did before, or didn't do. I never have. We were both in a lot of pain when we got together. We did the best we could; it wasn't always great, but we honest and truly loved each other, and that was all that ever mattered."

Steve's jaw hurt like hell from holding back tears. He wished more than anything that he could go back and start his whole life over from scratch, no matter what it cost the rest of the world. But he knew he couldn't; not only because of his own damn moral compass, but because he couldn't bear the thought of causing Bucky any more pain. Swallowing hard, he blinked up at the ceiling to dry his eyes. 

"Can we neck a little… just for a couple minutes?"

_ "Please." _ Bucky's desperate whisper against his ear made Steve's eyes fill even more. Lowering his head he let the tears fall as Bucky's trembling lips met his. There was nothing else to do, nowhere else to go, no one else to be. 

Steve's arms found their way around Bucky's neck, and Bucky lifted him into his lap. He could feel Bucky's erection starting to harden under his ass, and he… some forgotten muscle memory  _ wanted _ . Wanted Bucky; somehow. 

Steve grunted his frustration into Bucky's mouth as he rubbed his own swelling dick on Bucky's stomach. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Just what you're doin'." Bucky's breath hitched softly; then he squeezed Steve's waist tight and held him back for a moment to look into his eyes. "If you want that you gotta promise to talk to me."

"I don't even know what I want!" Steve wanted to cry all over again just from embarrassment and frustration. 

Bucky kissed him before he could start getting mad, and skillfully flipped backward so Steve was straddling his body. The shock alone took Steve's breath away, not to mention the blood rushing southward from being moved around like he weighed nothing. 

"Good?"

"Uh-huh." Steve sucked in a few quick breaths, "what, uh, what now?"

"Like I said, just what you were doing."

"Buck, I don't want to rub off. I- I want- I-" 

Bucky gently rubbed little circles into Steve's sides while he waited patiently for the lightbulb to switch on. When it did, he couldn't help grinning; Steve's cheeks bursting into color, his eyes going wide and his mouth dropping open was a sight Bucky wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon. 

"Holy  _ smoke… _ "

"Figure it out?"

"Uh…" Steve swallowed tightly. His face felt like it was on fire, but now that he'd finally found the right scratch for the itch, he couldn't stop thinking about it. "I uh, I think so?"

Bucky tried to contain a smirk but failed miserably. "Think so, or know so?"

"Well…"

"Tell you what," Bucky gave Steve's waist a little squeeze, "why don't we start with the basics, and work our way up from there."

"Like what?" Steve pushed his sleeve up to scratch at his scars. He couldn't really think of anything that had to be done besides maybe finding a rubber.

"Like taking our clothes off?"

"Oh." Steve's brows knit low for a moment, then he made to unbutton his jeans. Bucky's hands tightening pointedly made him stop and look up. "What?"

"It's not a race, Stevie." Bucky waited a moment for what he'd said to sink in, then he relaxed his grip, letting his hands drift slowly down Steve's thighs to his knee brace. "Not letting you get hurt, either. We're taking this slow, baby; the way it should be."

_ Oh… _ Steve blushed a little more, but it felt different; good different, like sinking into a hot bath after a long day. He drew in a long, slow breath to calm his racing thoughts; then he nodded. "Alright, Buck. I'm listening."

Bucky's expression brightened quietly; Steve ducked his head with a barely contained grin. Bucky squeezed the meat of his thighs lightly, "You're perfect, you know that?"

Steve snorted and shook his head. "Like hell… but thanks for saying it. Feels nice to be wanted."

"Always wanted you, honey." Bucky took Steve's scarred hand and brought it to his lips, gently kissing the tip of each finger in turn. Steve shivered, trying his best to ignore the straining feeling in his pants. Bucky pressed a kiss to Steve's open palm, then he brought it to rest over his heart. "Want you to help me undress first, if you want to."

Steve's breath caught in his throat, but he nodded quickly. Bucky wasn't just talking about getting naked, he was offering to let Steve see his scars… all of them. Steve leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Bucky's cheek, then another because he loved him so much. 

"Sure, Buck. You just show me what to do."

Bucky gave a little grin and pointed to the zipper on his jacket. Steve rolled his eyes, but he pulled it down with all the care he could put into it. Bucky moved to sit up, then he gave Steve another kiss. "Gonna have to stand up for the next part. My arm doesn't really like bending backwards too much."

Bucky kept his hands on Steve's waist while Steve slipped off his lap. They were starting to find a rhythm with each other's bodies; one peeling layers while the other held still, moving effortlessly as clothes fell to the floor one by one. Bucky didn't hide his face when he finally stood bare for Steve's inspection; he didn't feel the need to anymore; Steve had seen the most broken parts of him and still loved him completely. 

Bucky closed his eyes with a pleased shiver and a groan as Steve's fingertips glided delicately over a long scar stretching from his groin to just under his ribs. 

"Good?"

"Mmmmm." 

"Good." Steve chuckled quietly. He wrapped his hands around the softest parts of Bucky's waist, squeezing just enough to make Bucky squirm. He started pressing butterfly kisses to Bucky's chest, even more thickly haired than he remembered from the few glimpses he'd caught above the top of Bucky's bathing suit in the summer when they were growing up. He pressed a long kiss to the thickest patch between Bucky's pectorals; he could feel Bucky's heartbeat speed up under his lips, and he took in a deep breath through his nose. 

"Steve?"

"Hm?"

Bucky swallowed thickly. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Steve brought his lips up to meet Bucky's for a lingering moment. There was no way he'd ever be able to put into words how much. "Love you, Bucky. Love you so much I can't hold it all in."

"You don't have to," Bucky kissed Steve's cheeks and nose and chin, "I want all of it. Whatever you wanna give me."

A groan rumbled deep in Steve's chest; he kissed frantically at Bucky's shoulders, tightening his grip on Bucky's waist until Bucky squeezed him to ease up. "Sorry. Sorry…" 

"Mm-mm, you never need to apologize for that." Bucky waited for Steve's eyes to refocus, "Just wanted to check in so I know what you want to do."

"Oh, uh," Steve blinked and looked down. He was still fully dressed, but Bucky's dick had gone soft. "Guess I kinda killed the mood, huh?"

"What, that?  _ Pffft _ ," Bucky waved one hand dismissively at his lower body, "that happens. It's got nothing to do with you. Just my back's starting to hurt from standing on this concrete floor." 

"Oh! Right, sorry." Steve let Bucky walk them back to the bed to sit down. He stayed standing, though, tucked snuggly in the space between Bucky's thighs. "Um, I guess I should strip."

"Only if you want to, there's no hurry."

"I want to." Steve blushed a little at the feeling of Bucky's goods rubbing up against his clothed leg. He took in a small breath, then he grinned a little. "Wanna help me?"

"Sure do, sugar." Bucky grinned, too. He'd seen more of Steve's body than anyone, but he'd never gotten the chance to see it before the serum. He felt his own breath quickening with anticipation right along with Steve's; it was a pretty special first for both of them. 

Steve's fingers were trembling as he struggled out of his sweater and started to undo his shirt buttons; he'd been waiting years to make time with Bucky; he'd already had his dick sucked, too. Why the hell was he so nervous at the thought of taking off his clothes? 

"Check in, honey."

Steve let out a huff and closed his eyes. "Why's it so hard to get my damn buttons open?"

"'Cause you're doing something new." Bucky's thumbs rubbed soothingly at the dips in Steve's hip bones. "Being intimate with somebody doesn't always mean sex; sometimes it's letting yourself feel vulnerable, letting someone else do things for you, or doing things for them that you normally wouldn't."

"Like when you had a seizure?" Steve asked quietly. Bucky nodded; he also nudged Steve's hands out of the way so he could help him with his buttons. 

"Just like that. And like I used to look out for you when you got sick and your Ma had to work late. Like you helped me the time I broke my arm playing stickball…" Bucky's eyes widened and his cheeks went the slightest bit pink. Steve's chest was as bare as his was now, but he'd never realized just how much the serum had really changed. 

Steve glanced at himself briefly, then he gave Bucky a crooked little grin. "Not much to look at, but it's all yours."

"Punk. You… you're  _ beautiful _ ." 

It was Steve's turn to blush, profusely. Bucky had slipped the rest of Steve's shirt off his coat-hanger shoulders; he was taking everything in -  _ every dip, every line, every mole, every freckle, every hair, every bone, every inch of skin _ \- slowly and thoroughly, burning it deep into his memory where no one could ever take it from him again.

Steve felt strangely calm watching Bucky's eyes explore his body. He hadn't thought he'd like being looked at, examined, but he found he truly enjoyed Bucky doing it. After a few minutes, Bucky drew Steve close to press his own kiss to Steve's heart. "You're breathtaking, Stevie." 

"Yeah?" Steve had dug his fingers into Bucky's hair, scratching lightly at all of the cowlicks he'd been itching to flatten down over the years. 

"Yeah." Bucky nuzzled his head into Steve's hands like a cat. "Gonna need the kiss of life here pretty soon if you keep taking all my air."

"I'll let you bum one of my cigarettes." Steve snorted, tugging playfully at the back of Bucky's hair before he let go so he could bend down to undo his knee brace. He still wanted to find out what Bucky was gonna do with him… "I can take my own pants off."

"Fine with me." Bucky leaned back on his elbows with a grin to watch, giving Steve a real good eyeful as he wiggled out of his jeans, and unceremoniously dropped his drawers. 

"Well?" Steve asked, planting his hands on his nonexistent hips. He wasn't hard anymore, either, but he figured Bucky had probably taken that eventuality into consideration. "What now?"

If Bucky was feeling misty about the eyes he hid it well; jerking his head, he beckoned Steve to lie down next to him. "Rubbers are in the nightstand. And grab that little bottle."

"Done this before, huh?" 

"Once or twice." Bucky winked just to make Steve blush, and  _ wow it sure went a long way down…  _

Steve shivered a little in the chilly air, grabbed the things Bucky'd told him to and crawled back onto the bed. Bucky pulled him halfway across his warm torso to cuddle and give him another kiss. "Put your brace back on."

"Aw, Buck, it itches without pants."

"Want your knee going out again?"

"No…" Steve wondered exactly how rigorous an activity this was going to be, but he didn't really want to ask. "Oh, fine. But if I get a rash, it's coming off."

"Fair enough." Bucky folded his hands comfortably over his stomach while he watched Steve get his brace back on. The design was kind of neat, now that he got a good look at it; stiff enough to keep the joint from moving too far, but flexible enough that Steve could still move easily. When Steve was settled, he flopped back over Bucky's body to give his hand a kiss.

"We good now?"

"All good." Bucky smiled softly and looped his arm over Steve's waist. "Know what you want?"

Steve bit his lip a little; he wasn't as sure as he had been earlier, but he trusted Bucky to make whatever they were gonna do nice for him. He nodded, resting his chin on Bucky's chest. "Wanna know what this whole ass thing is all about."

Bucky snorted a giggle that made Steve's heart do a cartwheel. "There's really not much to it. You just gotta go slow and use lots of slickum. It might feel a little weird at first, but it can be fun." 

"Does it, um," Steve glanced down at the chest hair he was playing with, blushing slightly around the ears, "does it work both ways, or…" 

"Does what work both ways?"

"I mean," Steve huffed, blowing his hair out of his eyes, "I mean do you just do it to me, or can I do it to you." 

Steve was glad Bucky didn't laugh at him, or even look like he thought the question was too inexperienced. If anything he looked a little wistful, but Steve knew by now not to think too hard about why. "It works both ways, honey. Definitely works both ways. We can do it whichever way you want."

Steve tried hard not to let his imagination run away from him… maybe someday he'd be confident enough to touch Bucky like that, but for now he just wanted to know what it'd feel like to have Bucky inside of him... Putting his thoughts into words made Steve's stomach swoop and his heart race. He glanced up at Bucky like he might've heard his thoughts, but Bucky was still rubbing his back and waiting for him to take his time. 

"I want you to… do whatever you want. To me. Please." The sentence may have been weak, but the strength of will in his gaze was all Bucky had been waiting for. 

"Okay," he said easily, giving Steve's waist a little squeeze. "Hand me the bottle."

Steve reached over to grab the bottle from where he'd tossed it, and handed it back. "What's this stuff for, anyway?"

"It makes everything slide easier so you don't get chafed."

"Oh." Steve wasn't sure if he was supposed to sit up or stand or something else, but Bucky hadn't given him any further instructions yet. He was just squeezing a bunch of the liquid stuff onto his fingers. 

"Gonna touch your ass now, okay? Want you to tell me how it feels."

Steve nodded, not sure what to expect; then he felt one of Bucky's metal fingers slide down his asscheeks and he jumped about a mile out of his skin. 

Bucky's hand disappeared instantly. "Not good?"

"Fuckin' cold!"

Bucky threw his head back against the bed and laughed. Steve narrowed his eyes and pinched him in the soft skin under his flesh arm. "Wasn't that funny, jerk. You smuggling ice cubes in there, or something?"

Bucky shook his head, made his metal hand into a fist and rotated his shoulder a couple of times. "Been sitting still too long. Give it a minute."

After a few more seconds Steve felt Bucky's arm settle over his lower back again; the warmth coming from it made his whole body shiver pleasantly. "Neat trick."

"Comes in handy." Bucky smiled, "wanna try again?"

Steve nodded, willing himself to stay focused so he wouldn't be surprised. Bucky moved slowly, keeping his arm and wrist touching Steve's skin the whole time so he'd know exactly where he was. When Bucky's fingers drifted down to his ass, Steve only felt himself want to squirm a little. "Huh."

"Good? Bad?"

"A little weird." Steve let the sensation go on a while longer before he pushed back against it. "Oh. Yeah, kinda weird."

"Want me to stop?" Bucky had already stopped, but he kept his wrist braced on Steve's tailbone until he said one way or another. 

"No," Steve shook his head, "it's just… different."

"You can try rubbing off while I do it, too. That helps sometimes."

"Do I need a rubber?"

"Yup." Bucky waited for Steve to fetch one from his pile of supplies, then he handed him the bottle of lube. "Try giving yourself a hand with a little of this first."

Steve put a few drops in his hand; rubbing his fingers together to warm the stuff, then he took hold of his dick. "This isn't very romantic."

"What do you want me to do, quote Browning?" 

"Jerk." Steve rolled his eyes, then he opened them wide with a choked off gasp. Bucky's finger was circling the rim of his ass, and it actually felt  _ good _ . He glanced at Bucky's other hand; for some reason he wanted Bucky's fingers in his mouth. His own hand tightened on his dick and his thighs gave a dangerous shake. 

_ "Fuck." _

"Good?"

"Fingers." Steve wasn't sure why he needed them, but he did;  _ he needed them so badly _ , "Please, Buck, let me-"

Bucky's first two fingers filling his mouth tore a pathetic whimper from Steve's throat. He felt ashamed, selfish, embarrassed,  _ vulnerable _ . Tears stung in Steve's eyes as he sucked, his cheeks burned, but he couldn't stop. 

"Check in, honey."

Steve let Bucky's fingers go with a choked sob, and buried his face in Bucky's stomach. "I don't know why I did that."

"You didn't do anything wrong, sweetheart." Bucky's damp, spitty fingers combed gently through Steve's hair. He didn't sound upset at all. "You were just really overwhelmed. You haven't been this sensitive in a long time."

"That good or bad?" Steve lifted his head to wipe his tears on the back of his clean hand. He was hard, finally, but he didn't know if he'd be able to do anything about it. 

Bucky shook his head slightly, cupping Steve's cheek so he could wipe away a few extra tears. "Neither one. It's just your body getting used to something new. That's why we're taking things slow."

Steve smushed his face in Bucky's stomach again with a drawn out groan. He was so tired of taking things slow; and besides, what the hell kind of fun could it possibly be for Bucky? "Wish I was better at this already." 

"I don't." Bucky grinned, hugging Steve tight and dragging him up for air and a kiss. "I love being able to watch you learn things. A lot of this is a first for me, too, Steve."

"Not the sex part." The half empty box of rubbers in their bedroom had made that much blatantly clear. 

"No, but… you're finally letting me love you." 

_ Oh… _ Steve heaved a quiet sigh and looked around. The cold room, the thin blankets, the colorless walls. Bucky's softness, his gentleness, his heart that was three sizes too big… 

This wasn't about sex; intimacy, Bucky'd said; getting to do things for someone else that you normally wouldn't. All Bucky wanted was to love and be loved in return. 

"I love you, too." Steve said, smiling contentedly now that he hopefully _ , finally, _ understood.

Bucky smiled back, his brows raised in curiosity, but he let Steve keep his own thoughts. "Wanna try again?"

"Yes. Very much." Steve planted a doozy of a kiss on Bucky's lips, then he settled himself so he could rub off on Bucky's stomach. He was realizing he kind of had a thing for softness, after all. "I'm ready, Buck."

"I got you, sugar."

This time when Bucky's finger, (still warm, thank God), started circling his ass, Steve didn't feel bad about wanting to suck Bucky's fingers until they pruned. He didn't feel bad about pulling weird faces, or making awkward sounds, and he definitely didn't feel bad for asking Bucky to slow down when things got to be too much. 

Bucky even let him lend a helping hand afterward, to make sure he felt just as good as he'd made Steve feel; even if he insisted he never noticed. 

Steve couldn't help giggling like a little boy with a secret as he sorted through the pile of clothes a while later, tossing pieces to Bucky where he was still lounging on the bed, looking unfairly soft in his post climax glow. The whisps if hair sticking to his face weren't helping, either, but Steve wasn't about to tell him that. 

He didn't feel as sad as he'd expected to about making the bed when they left; for locking the door on an empty building, or even for the silence on the ride home. When they reached the cabin, the only lights left on were the Christmas tree, and the string of stars Steve had helped hang on his first day there. Wiping the snow off his sneakers, Steve walked through to the partition separating the coziness of the living room from the rest of the house. 

"What'cha thinking about?" Bucky asked, coming up behind Steve to look at the tree with him.

"Just life." Steve turned, making Bucky turn, too. "Hey," Steve said, pulling Bucky close, "before we go upstairs…" 

Steve rose up on his toes; one of his hands going to Bucky's chest to steady himself. Bucky's metal hand went to Steve's hip, his gaze searched Steve's face, part way between resigned and questioning. The dim glow from the string of star-shaped lights catching the silver hairs at Bucky's temples took Steve's breath away. 

"Just wanted you to know, I've made up my mind."

Bucky didn't ask what Steve had been deciding. There were so many different things that had uprooted his life in the past week, any one of them would have been enough to make him want to regain some sense of control. Bucky only hoped Steve wouldn't try to carry out his choice alone this time...

"I'm staying." 

"Where?"

"Here. With you." Steve's lips met Bucky's with a little kiss. "You're my family, Buck, and if Pepper and Morgan and Tony are your family, then they're mine, too."

Bucky's eyes filled with relieved tears; he pulled Steve close, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he struggled to find the words, "Steve, I-"

"DID SANTA CLAUS COME ALREADY?!"

A tiny whirlwind barreled into Bucky's legs, hopping up and down in a blur of brown curls and sparkling eyes. "Did he really leave presents?!" 

Steve chuckled, using the hand not clutching Bucky for balance to ruffle Morgan's hair. "Why don't you go look under the tree and see?"

"Mommy! Santa Clause did find us!" Morgan zoomed back to the foot of the stairs to jump into the arms of her bleary-eyed parents. Pepper gave Bucky and Steve a crooked smile before she got dragged into the living room, and Tony gave them a smirk.

"They're really good people, Steve." Bucky said quietly, holding Steve close to his chest while they swayed to some Christmas song coming from the radio. 

"Yeah…" Steve listened to Morgan tearing into her presents, Pepper and Tony laughing with each other over some shared memory in the making. He looked back up into Bucky's silvery-gray eyes, shining with hope and love and more than a few tears. These people,  _ all of them, _ were his family now, for as long as he wanted them. 

"They really are."

☆

Epilogue 

"Are you still disappointed Santa didn't bring you a puppy?" Bucky asked Morgan over an early breakfast that morning, once all the gifts had been opened, and the wrapping paper set aside for recycling. She'd been a little sad and cranky about missing out on the one present she'd really wanted, but having a whole robot to herself was pretty cool. 

"Nah." She shook her head, leaning back in Bucky's lap to look at the pretty patterns the tree lights were making on the ceiling. "I love DUM-E."

Bucky hummed contentedly and pressed a tiny kiss to the side of her head, gazing across the room where Steve and Tony were huddled over Steve's new record player. 

"I still can't believe your dad had five hundred of these." Steve flipped the album in his hands over so he could read the back. Tony'd given him a box of fifty already; how he was ever going to get through the rest he had no idea. 

"He was a collector of many things," Tony waved a hand at the turntable, "I'll take you to the mansion sometime so you can see his hot rods."

"His what?"

"Cars. Very cool cars." Tony smiled gently, glancing up at Pepper curled up in her new easy chair with her hand warmers and the portrait Steve had drawn of Morgan. 

She smiled back at him, her eyes crinkling with happiness. Just a week ago she never could have imagined how blessed her life was going to turn out. Against some pretty incredible odds, they'd found family, and love, in a hopeless place. 

☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are done! I hope you enjoyed it!  
Comments water my crops and feed my soul, so please don't be shy!  
I love keysmashes, tears, squees, and questions, too!


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